Yeah, it's something weird for some people where their spacing isn't translated from Word to forums. How are you adding paragraphs while writing on Word, by the way? Are you double-spacing there or using indents? Indents don't keep here, so it's better to just automatically do the double-spacing while using a word processing program.

Also, in response to your answer about why Steven is there, it's more like why is Steven the one to hand out a Pokemon? Why doesn't he help the main character become a trainer through Professor Birch, especially since this starts in Littleroot Town? It's also kind of weird that Steven is handing out a Castform when he's more known for Steel-type Pokemon.

__________________

Now nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody speaks my name
I'm just another blister in the mouth of shame
A bug in Ender's Game

To me, Steven is an opportunist. He's one to value all pokemon. He's known for steel types, but he also has Armaldo and Cradily on his team. The whole, rare stones thing. :D I'm indenting for paragraphs. Since Steven is the champion, he would have access to Castform(s), and, since he is friends with (mine/you) mother, so would you. Personally, I'm tired of the professor giving you your mon and your dex. It seems tacked on as opposed to well-thought out and fun to play and write though. As for why he would give me a Castform, I have no idea, I haven't thought that far ahead yet. I've always loved Steven as a character (imprinting's at it again) and I wanted him to be the one to give (me/you) a pokemon. I feel like Steven should be a central character, vital to progressing the story arc that I'm already starting to string out, and what better way to tie him to (you/me) then to have him give you your pokemon. :D

It's best if you make all these things clear in your story, from the very first opportunity, rather than tell us. Explaining a bit between the lines not only can make your writing enjoyable and give it a flow, but it'll give it more flesh and impact. Describing events one by one isn't the way to go.

Before you write more of the story, I suggest you ask yourself what the readers know already. Start presenting every detail and explanation clearly and gradually, as not to confuse or bog the story down with too much information. That should set a stable basis for you to write the rest. If you decide to write more, I'll be glad to review it

Okay so... this is an original fiction story I started writing. Be warned that it does have anorexia triggers, which is why I'm placing it under a spoiler. I'm don't want to trigger anyone who might be/has suffered this in the past.

Spoiler:

I hated my body because I wasn't anything like those models in magazines. I dreamed of being perfect, even though I would never be that way. I couldn't stand looking in the mirror just to see how fat and ugly I was. I pulled at the thick skin on my stomach while letting out a huge sigh. I couldn't believe I was this chubby, even though my best friend said I looked fine.

No one really understood the struggles I had in my life. I never got very good grades, and I was nothing like my perfect older sister. I looked at the cuts on my arms; some fresh and others that were now scars. Tears streamed down my cheeks upon one more glance in the mirror, realizing I was completely inferior.

You are worthless and ******. You don't deserve to live anymore... I thought to myself as I broke down crying.

I took out one of my razor blades and sliced a horizontal line across my wrist. Blood oozed out from the fresh cut when I started to feel numb. I stopped crying to look back in the mirror with a long sigh.

I placed a large bandaid over the cut to hide it from my family. There wasn't a single person who knew I actually did this to myself. I threw on a Hello Kitty t-shirt, a black zip-up hoodie and a pair of blue jeans. I applied light pink eyeshadow to my eyes with black eyeliner and cherry red lip gloss.

Mom was making breakfast when I came downstairs as I took a seat at the table. Allie glared at me from across while eating her scrambled eggs. I wasn't very well liked in this family because of my imperfections and mistakes. I had to do things on my own because my parents wouldn't do anything for me, except provide my meals.

"Where's my breakfast?" I asked mom, even though I didn't feel like eating.

"You can get your own breakfast. You're not lazy." mom told me as I looked down.

I poured myself some Cheerios and started eating them without a glance at her. Dad came downstairs, only to glare at my like I had done something wrong. I could remember a time when we used to be such happy, supportive family. Everything used to be so perfect until me and Allie grew older and matured.

"Shouldn't you be at school, Maya?" he asked me, knowing he just wanted me gone.

"School doesn't start for another hour and a half." I frowned at him.

"Well, it would be so much better around here without a piece of **** like you." he scowled as I looked away and held back my tears.

I knew I was better off dead, but I couldn't go through with killing myself. I had many attempts at doing it, yet I was always caught by my sister. Allie cared enough about me to stop me from killing myself, even though sometimes her love wasn't enough.

I placed my empty bowl into the sink, grabbed my bag and headed off to school. I had the urge to throw up what I had just eaten. I felt like **** because I knew I was fat, and that was never going to change anytime soon. I snuck into the bushes to place to fingers behind my throat and finally puked.

I had to admit that it felt soothing to do this, despite how fat I was. I hadn't done this in such a long time because I hid these things from Allie. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and proceeded to school.

The only good thing about it was seeing my best friend Paisley. We had been best friends since the start of middle school. I told her everything, even about my self-harm and self-hatred of myself. I had no idea what I would have done without her in my life.

"Did you eat today?" she asked me when I shrugged. "Maya, you did it again, didn't you?" she looked at me and began frowning while her eyes filled with worry.

"I can't help it. You know I feel disgusted with myself." I glanced away from her.

"You promised me you were going to keep your food down today." she pouted and crossed her arms.

"I never promised anything. I can't promise something I have no control over." I told her as I let out a deep sigh. "I just felt really gross today, and I still feel like ****." I said with total honesty.

"I'm worried about you." she replied while we came up the steps.

Two girls blocked our way and prevented us from entering. Paisley clung to my arm as I stared at both of these girls. One had black hair, almond shaped brown eyeshadow light skin. Her other friend had sunny blonde hair and bright blu eyes. Popular girls have it easy... I thought to myself.

"Fat *****es aren't allowed here." the Asian girl replied with a smirk on her perfect face.

I looked down, realizing she was right about me being fat. I took everything people said about me to heart when I shouldn't have. I felt my stomach growling from the lack of nutrients after throwing up.

"At least we have inner beauty nor cold-hearted inside and out!" Paisley snapped at the girls continuing to show remarkable courage.

"Oh, please! Inner beauty isn't going to get you anywhere, hun." At he blonde haired girl stood there crossing her arms.

"How would you know? It's not like either of you have it." she smirked without any fear at all.

A teacher came up the stairs, allowing us to follow behind her. Neither of the girls had a chance to keep us from entering. Paisley led me to the cafeteria, only for me to be nauseated by the scent of food around me. I ran out before I started gagging from all of those smells. My head was pounding immensely, but I hadn't gotten dizzy.

"I...can't..." I sobbed with her standing next to me. "Eating...makes me feel...so gross..." I let my tears roll down my cheeks when she hugged me.

It wasn't until I noticed my crush entering the cafeteria. He had messy black hair, two different colored eyes and headphones in his ears. I stopped crying even though he ignored me and pretended I was non-existent

I'm not the best writer, and I am aware of that. However, I do like my writing style. I improve little by little each day since I'm a self-educated writer. I just thought I'd show you guys my writing since I've never actually shown anything here, yet I've bragged before about how I'm a writer and what not.

oh right, currently i'm doing crossover of Ignitionshipping (aka Volkner and Flint) when they a game together. though i do need a better title...
spoiler because, well, need some major editing.

Spoiler:

A Ignitionshipping x Homestuck AU

A young man in his young 20s is standing inside of his room waiting for his best bro coming home from work. So they can begins a new game they revived, however, waiting for him all day making him very impatience. However, luckily, being the strongest gym leader of the Sinnoh Pokémon league was worth of getting the beta copy. Also having a friend being a member of the Elite 4 increased of getting another beta copy in case one of them lost it. However, the original will be release next month, but his bro could not resist of getting “A game to die for!”
Before we go on this story, we need to know his name.

Enter Name:

Sparkystinkybutthead

TRY AGAIN, DUMBASS!

Try Again:

Volkner Corrado

Whatever...

Be the depress Gym leader:

Your name is Volkner, the last gym leader of the Sinnoh Pokémon league, plus the strongest. For so many years of battling challengers’ Pokémon, you lost your spirit of battling (Again). Therefore, you gave away badges without the battles for a while now. However, your friend was trying to cheer you up again, but been busy of battling top participators at the Elite Four Tower. Therefore, you’re all alone inside of the tower, doing nothing. All though your other interests are building high tech stuff; after all, you did build all of these awesome solar plates all over the city. Sadly, it’s a rainy day today, so you are just standing here, once again, doing nothing. For being so depress of waiting, your suggestion is at least do something. However, what will you do in a rainy day?

Volkner: Examine Room
Someone once told you there is always something to do on a rainy day. You did remember that one time in your childhood when you and your bro both had the same situation in that stormy day…
But you are too busy examining the room that is called “your”.

Volkner: Look at a poster of…

*sigh*
Lt. Surge, one of the best electric gym leaders of all time. Though he was the third low class gym leader, but his guts never failed him. For had challenged so many amazing trainers all over the world, his smile never move an inch of jealously.

Volkner: Kiss the poster!

What! How childish of you wanted to see him kissing a stupid poster of Lt. Surge! That just stupid and child play.

Volkner: Please kiss the poster

No way!

Volkner: PLEASE kiss the poster! Walk to the window

You walk to window to see if you see your bro out there, but no spot of him, which made you upset. He supposed to finish his last battle a while ago to get the game started, you guess the rain is getting heavy over the tower and the flight will be bumpy. You guess you could for him a little bit.
Speaking of the son of *****, you got a message.

Volkner: Look at the message

famousSocialite[FS] Began Bothering energeticVictor[EV] at 3:02 pm
FS: Yo, Volkner!
EV: Oh hey…
FS: Don’t tell me, you still skipping battles again? What if the champion finds out about this, I won’t be holding this in for any longer, man!
FS: she will find out with her *****y powers.
EV: ….
FS: *sigh* you have to get over it, this is not the Volkner I know since we became friends for “I don’t know how many” years.
EV: …Are you still at the tower?
FS: Nah, man. I am free as a Butterfree!
EV: Oh, so you are coming…
FS: Yeah bro! Therefore, we can play the copy the company had made.
EV: Very well, I guess I’ll install the copy while you head here.
FS: Alright, Volkner.
FS: While you at it, my little brother is coming by so we may be do a threesome.
EV: ….
FS: What?
EV: Oh nothing.
EV: I was wondering why you wanted your little brother to play with us?
FS: Don’t worry about it, I bet he will just watch us.
FS: like he always does.
EV: Alright, whatever you say…
FS: Ok! See you later then.

famousSocialite[FS] Deceased Bothering energeticVictor[EV] at 3:10 pm

Be the other guy:
Another young man around his 20s is standing behind the tower of the Elite four and finishes the day of defeating a lot of fire up opponents. However, being an elite four member can be tough like getting your ass kick every time you being challenged by that ***** who know your weakness every time.
Before you lose your flame from the heavy rain, let’s guess this guy’s name!
Enter name:
Sir ****tybirdnestalot
Lol
Ehhhh, every character should be insulted from these random names, but this guy seem to like the joke. What’s this? There’s something on his umbrella, with a Lopunny drawing on it. Saying: Friendship never ends…
Try Again?

Okay, now that I have played Homestuck a little bit, I'm now ready to help.

Right now, your fic is set up for Homestuck fans, and only Homestuck fans. I was completely lost when I read through, before playing Homestuck. As long as you're okay with this, it's fine. Just letting you know that your target audience is somewhat limited.

I won't go to specific grammar details here, because no one else has and I'm wondering if this is what this thread is for, but there is room for improvement. I spotted some mistakes that could easily be ironed out with some proofreading. I would work on spotting these mistakes, and fixing them. Perhaps even waiting a day, reading your work again, and then posting it. I think it would help with the grammar.

The reason Homestuck got popular, was because it had a flash to go with it. Since this story doesn't have a visual aid, it tends to read a little dry. A bit more description would help, but make it stray from the Homestuck format, which you have right now. I could see hardcore Homestuck fans getting into this, because of the nostalgia value, but I'm afraid that you'll pretty much lose everyone else. Sorry if I sound a little harsh, but I always aim to give an honest review, so that's what I'll do. The fic can work, but it's going to be a challenge (which isn't necessarily a bad thing).

Okay, now that I have played Homestuck a little bit, I'm now ready to help.

Right now, your fic is set up for Homestuck fans, and only Homestuck fans. I was completely lost when I read through, before playing Homestuck. As long as you're okay with this, it's fine. Just letting you know that your target audience is somewhat limited.

I won't go to specific grammar details here, because no one else has and I'm wondering if this is what this thread is for, but there is room for improvement. I spotted some mistakes that could easily be ironed out with some proofreading. I would work on spotting these mistakes, and fixing them. Perhaps even waiting a day, reading your work again, and then posting it. I think it would help with the grammar.

The reason Homestuck got popular, was because it had a flash to go with it. Since this story doesn't have a visual aid, it tends to read a little dry. A bit more description would help, but make it stray from the Homestuck format, which you have right now. I could see hardcore Homestuck fans getting into this, because of the nostalgia value, but I'm afraid that you'll pretty much lose everyone else. Sorry if I sound a little harsh, but I always aim to give an honest review, so that's what I'll do. The fic can work, but it's going to be a challenge (which isn't necessarily a bad thing).

nah it's cool, Slayr. i love honest reviews! i just wanting to have my two favorite fandom together; to be honest, i'm not good at doing the Homestuck format, and trying to get an artist for the illustration panels. but nowadays it's harder to find a partner/team for the fandventure. that the reason i joined here for how the other pokemon fans feels about crossover with MSPA.

speaking of homestuck, ive been writing this humanstuck fan-fiction??????? yeah idk have the first few bits of it

putting it under a spoiler because its mildly disturbing and talks about death and gore and yeah

Spoiler:

The chopsticks snapped cleanly into two halves, the cheap birch wood offering an even eating utensil only just this once.

His hands curled around them, forming into a position and picking up a piece of sushi. He placed it delicately in his mouth, chewing slowly, the seaweed wrapping the rice and fish together tough and chewy. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbling slightly.

“Is the sushi good?” His parental figure was facing him from the other side of the table, pausing while picking up his piece of sashimi style salmon. His sterling gray eyes were inquiring, while the boy's ocean blue eyes remained emotionless, and just a tad bit uncertain.

“It could be better.” He replied, putting down his chopsticks and taking a sip of the ice-water. He swished it around in his mouth a bit before swallowing, getting the remnants of the sticky rice out of the tightest corners of his teeth and gums. For extra cleaning purposes, he stuck a finger in his mouth, searching around the cracks between his separate teeth and scratching at half-chewed pieces of fish that remained hidden secretly in the nooks. The truth was, he didn't like sushi at all. He hated sushi.

Accidentally, his finger scraped too hard against the gum line, rupturing the fragile surface and capillaries and causing minor bleeding. He flinched and withdrew his finger, noticing watery blood on the tip. He could taste the scarlet liquid inside his mouth, and he licked his tongue around the sore area to hopefully quell the minor throbbing that ensued.

He then proceeded to wipe his finger on a napkin but stopped and instead decided to stare at the half-blood half-saliva mixture on his fingernail. He hated the fact that it wasn't pure. It wasn't the actual, noticeable bright red that he found pleasing to the human eye. With a look of slight disgust, he brushed his finger on his pants and picked up the book he was reading before the food arrived. His fingers slipped against the paper uncomfortably and he recoiled, looking at his finger to notice a slight papercut.

It bled slowly and raggedly, and he was slightly pleased to notice it was the pure substance he was looking for. Red, bright, somewhat enticing. He kept staring at it, staring into the color. His lips turned dry. He licked them.

What if this red was everywhere? What if it was all over the room? What if he was the one that caused red to be all over the room? He shivered, but out of pleasure or fear? The blood dripped from his finger, in a drop to the ground below. It was so intriguing. He wanted the red to be everywhere.

“Are you alright?” The parental figure's voice snapped him out of his daydream. He was now shivering in fear.

“I'm going to go to the restroom.” He changed the subject and sat up abruptly, hurrying along to the back of the restaurant. He was relieved to find it was only a single restroom and not one with multiple stalls. He went to the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He had bags under his dull blue eyes. They were no longer oceans, just shells amongst the bed of the sea. He looked back at his finger and put it in his mouth, sucking on the metallic and salty tang that blood offered. It felt... Good. He didn't know why. The shaking didn't cease. He felt like he was about to throw up.

He dropped to his knees, the cold tile floor hardening his fall. There would be bruising. He thought about those bruises, coming in colors of purples, blues, and yellows. His stomach lurched.

His hands curled around the porcelain rim of the toilet and he began to retch into the bowl. The bile stung against the sides of his throats, adding a sour taste to his mouth and lips. He screwed up his face after the vomiting ceased, shaking even harder than when he started. He let out a choked sob and fell to the floor, grabbing his jet-black hair in his hands and pulling and pulling.

Every night was just like this. He didn't want this night be a night like the others. He wanted to stop. He wanted to be done. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to be a rotting corpse in the ground, his organs strewn across the grass and blood everywhere, his eyes blank and glazed and staring up at the sky. Flies would dance around his ripped skin and lay their eggs which would hatch into maggots that would wriggle around and burrow deep, eating his dead flesh and- no, no, no. No, he couldn't think about that. His stomach twisted again. He didn't want to throw up the rest of today's meals. He opened his mouth in a silent scream and prayed quietly for death.

***

Karkat Vantas awoke in his bed, the daylight from his window already fading. His eyes were dead. His feet and hands dangled on either side of his bed. He stared at the cracks in the ceiling with dulling boredom. Another wasted day. Another wasted fraction of his life.

But today was different from the other days. Today was Karkat Vantas's lucky day. It was his last day on Earth. And he knew the above statement was true.

That was his first mistake. The thing was, the above statement was not true. Today wasn't going to be Karkat Vantas's last day on Earth. That day would wait. He was still lucky, however, because that day wasn't far along ahead.

His limbs seemed to move on their own, while his head remained on the single pillow, unwilling to get up. He had to get up at some point. His last day on Earth wouldn't go out without a bang. He hoisted himself up, laying his bare feet on the cold wooden floor. He drew in his toes and sighed. For a second he thought he would have smiled, being comforted by the thought that this was his last day on Earth. But he didn't. There wasn't a reason to smile, the numbness covered up everything he wanted to show.

His bed squeaked as he stood. He didn't bother to stretch and yawn and walked right out of his room to the kitchen of his tiny apartment that he shared with his father.

His stomach growled noisily, and he opened the fridge, shoving his hands around the compartments, scrounging around for anything and everything to quell his hunger. He scarfed down the leftovers from today's lunch: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple. There was a frozen pizza in the freezer, so he brought that out and placed it in the oven, pacing around the small, two-person sized kitchen and anticipating his death like a child's first visit to a theme park. He stared at the ticking clock on the microwave, situated beside the oven on the counter. It was six o'clock in the evening. It wouldn't be long before his life would end and he'd be content, floating along in nothingness, or whatever came afterwards.

Karkat Vantas wasn't afraid of death. He relished in the idea of it. He didn't believe in Heaven or Hell, and felt no need he had to to have a good afterlife. He believed he'd become nothing, which was exactly what he wished for.

After an hour, the oven dinged, signaling his pizza was ready. He dragged it out and wolfed it down, not waiting for it to cool. He didn't care. He was going to puke it all up anyway. It was his last day on Earth, he deserved to pig out.

There was shuffling in his father's room, and some mumbling. Karkat cursed silently to himself, he must've woken up his father during his nap. He finished his pizza and quickly cleaned the pan he put it on, leaving it in the sink. Hurriedly, he walked into his bedroom and shut the door quietly, hoping he hadn't really woken up his father. If he did, there would be hell to pay, and Karkat didn't want this last day to end badly. He wanted to feel good about dying. He wasn't going to cry today. Today wouldn't end the same as the others. He knew it wouldn't. He'd be dead by next morning, and that was all that mattered.

thats only a fraction of the chapter but yeah im having fun over here writing it im on a roll.

Well, I tried out something new with my latest chapter (7) and I'm not sure how it turned out. Here's a little part of it. I was going for a timeless, mysterious feel, and it would be great if someone told me if I reached it or not.

For some background knowledge, Nolafus (my main character) , is a firefighter, and got trapped under some burning boards after a nasty fall and passed out due to pain and blood-loss. This is what he sees when he wakes up again. Put into a spoiler for length and I don't want to waste a part you might not have gotten to yet, if you're reading through it.

Spoiler:

When Nolafus opened his eyes, he wasn’t burning, he wasn’t surrounded by fire, and he wasn’t even in a building. Instead, he was floating. Nolafus looked around and he found himself in a sort of void. He remained floating there, looking out at the deep abyss. He tried to remember what he was doing, but the search through his memory was inconclusive. He couldn’t remember a thing. Nolafus felt like he had memories, and indeed he had, but he felt like they happened so long ago. Besides, he was just happy to be floating here, it was relaxing. Nolafus decided that he must have been here his entire life, he couldn’t remember anything else that would tell him otherwise. A deep peace overcame Nolafus as a bright light suddenly flashed.

Nolafus raised his hand to shield his eyes from the bright light, but it soon died down. Nolafus lowered his hand to reveal a dark hole where the light had been. Rays of light showed the outlined of the dark hole, and Nolafus smiled. The dark hole seemed so inviting, he even thought he could hear music. Nolafus thought about trying to remember the clouded memories, but it just seemed like so much work. Why spend so much effort when it was so easy just to give in? Nolafus gave up on his thoughts and began to drift towards the hole, he was still a ways away, but he had time. It’s not like anyone was expecting him anywhere. He had no responsibilities and all the time in the world, he could go anywhere, do anything, but right now, all Nolafus wanted to do was go through that hole. He could just simply fall in there.

Wait, “fall…” why does that ring a bell? Nolafus stopped to ponder this thought which had invaded his mind. The thought was just a whisper, but it kept repeating itself. Each time it grew louder and louder, eventually the thought was shouting in his head. Nolafus raised his hands to his head in an effort to drown out the screaming. He winced, he felt pain dart through his entire body. What was happening? What is this place? Why am I here? Nolafus’ eyes flew open. His memory, foggy a second ago, had now began to appear. He had a wife, wait, she died a while ago. Yet he still felt love, and loved. How can this be? Nolafus remembered two srains, sons? Yes, definitely sons, one was twelve, the other seven. What were their names? Badron and Kren, his two sons. Another srain and a human appeared in his thoughts, Kolski and Joe, my friends. Firefighters, they were firefighters. That one word, fall, why did that word feel so real? Fall, I was falling. Falling from where? There was a fire, and I was falling. All of Nolafus’ memories came flooding back to him in an instant and he remembered everything. He remembered finding that little girl, he remembered falling through the floor, and he remembered not being able to escape. The void that had once seemed so safe, began to fade, and the hole that once looked so inviting. Nolafus noticed it wasn’t a hole at all, but a mouth. Everything around him seem to melt as he was shot up, into a bright light.

Nolafus took a deep breath and immediately started pushing everything off of him. The boards were easier to move for some reason. He shot up and started running through the door. He took off through the hallway where he saw a woman standing there, wearing nothing. She was surrounded by fire and turned away from him, but she didn’t move. In fact, she seemed to be wearing the fire. Her entire body was adorned with a cloak made entirely of flickering energy. Nolafus called out to her, and she turned around. Her first look was one of shock as she walked towards Nolafus and started pushing him back towards the burning garage. Nolafus tried with all his might to escape from her grasp, but it was no use. She wouldn’t let go and despite the struggle Nolafus was putting up, she was able to drag him back into the garage. She lifted up the boards and started to push Nolafus back under them. Nolafus wasn’t able to escape, and not willing to give up the fight, he screamed. Nolafus screamed so loudly and with such intensity, he had to close his eyes and he felt the grip of the woman loosen, and release.

Besides, he was just happy to be floating here; it was relaxing. Nolafus decided that he must have been here his entire life; he couldn’t remember anything else that would tell him otherwise.

I believe that the two commas in these sentences should be replaced with semi colons. It's a sort of break in thought that just isn't done justice by a normal ol' comma.

Also, it's my opinion that the repetition of "bright light" and "dark hole" in such quick succession seems a bit . . . awkward. However, that depends on how much attention you wish to bring to these objects. I guess it's more of a style choice.
The same goes for "Nolafus raised his hand, . . . Nolafus lowered his hand." It's an interesting bit of parallelism, but it just seems a bit off to me. I don't know if it's due to the lack of substance between the repetition, or perhaps the way they're worded. Of course, it sounds odd that I would say that there's too little substance between the repetition, but I believe that's because of your diction. Perhaps changing it to "Nolafus raised his hand to shield his eyes from the intense light, only to have it quickly fade. He lowered his hand . . ."

From there, there are numerous places that you have commas where a period would be more fitting. I'll list those in a moment.
After the "Wait, 'fall...'" The word "Why" should begin a new sentence.
Once you get to "Fall, I was falling," I think you could replace that comma with an em dash. "Fall
—I was falling."
At "began to fade," you should continue with "and so did the hole," or else it sounds like an incomplete thought. Unless you didn't mean that the hole should fade, in which case you should have that as a separate sentence. Soon after that, "seem" should be "seemed".

Then, once at "She wouldn't let go and despite," there should be a comma after the "and".

Okay, here's all the places I think there should be periods rather than commas or extra words.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Slayr231

. . . drift towards the hole. He was still a ways away, but he had time.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Slayr231

. . . and all the time in the world. He could go anywhere, do anything, . . .

Quote:

Originally Posted by Slayr231

Each time it grew louder and louder, until eventually the thought was shouting in his head.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Slayr231

He winced. He felt pain dart through his entire body.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Slayr231

He had a wife. Wait, she died a while ago.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Slayr231

Nolafus remembered two srains. Sons? Yes, definitely sons.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Slayr231

Another srain and a human appeared in his thoughts. Kolski and Joe, my friends. Firefighters. They were firefighters.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Slayr231

. . . he had to close his eyes. He felt the grip of the woman loosen, and release.

Beyond all of that, I do believe that you have the mysterious feel that you were going for. I'm not sure how mysterious you wanted it, exactly, but there is certainly some mystery to it.

Although, sometimes it's not clear that it's suddenly shifted over to Nolafus' thoughts, which makes the switch between past and present tense seem sudden and awkward. I also think that your paragraphs sometimes come out a bit long. By this I mean, when it comes to literature, the paragraph normally shifts when there's a subject change, dialogue, or when things just don't seem to flow too well together. You also seem to flit through the passage rather quickly, but that's more of a stylistic approach that's entirely up to you.

And now, for my passage.

Okay, I figured I would type this up and get some opinions on how it's coming along. It's only my second attempt at fanfiction, but I've done plenty of writing in the past, and the Roleplay Corner has been my main dwelling for my three years on this site.

I'd like to know how the prologue sounds, and if the first chapter, um, escalated too quickly.
Truthfully I originally had no intentions whatsoever for the story to head in this direction. There was supposed to be no gay at all. ABSOLUTELY NO GAY. At least this means I might have a setup for some drama later on in the story.

Spoiler:

Prologue

"Sound the trumpets."

The atmosphere was dismal as the rain poured down upon the seemingly endless fields. On any normal day, these fields were home to a peaceful clamor that betrayed a flourishing population of wild pokémon.

But this was no normal day.

Today these fields were home to an odd gathering of people and their pokémon. Two armies of pokémon trainers that were preparing to make war. Hundreds of men and women spread out in every direction, their voices nothing more than whispers on the wind as they readied themselves to fight. The gathering cast an unnatural and eerie silence over the area, foreshadowing a night of untold terrors and endless hostilities.

"As you command, Master Cross," replied the elder of the two men. He moved his hand to his belt, bringing out a small, red and white pokéball that gleamed under the moonlight. Tossing it in the air, a large purple wisp materialized in front of the man. "Mismagius, Screech."

A shrill, ear-splitting wail pierced the night sky, turning the fields into a sudden blur of shadows in motion as trainers charged into the heat of battle. Eiro Cross smirked. "Take no prisoners."

Chapter One

It was a bright summer morning, filled with the pleasant tunes of countless pokémon and cooled by a zephyr flowing from the north. The scenery was lush and beautiful. Untainted by the ways of humanity was the Nyxia region, teeming with unimaginable creatures and sights, and dominated by nature. The people that lived here, while maintaining a comfortable life with the luxuries of technology, respected the natural environment and existed in harmony with the region's bestial inhabitants. They had lived this way for centuries, and were taught to live this way even in modern times.

Of course, not everyone respected the laws of the land, and the people native to the region often had to clean up after foreigners and tourists. Still, so long as nature remained in control of the region, there were few complaints to be heard.

Except from the tourists, of course. "I hate planes, so much." Despite his feelings, Matt believed that the plane ride had gone decently well. After all, he'd only vomited a handful of times, and he only fainted once or twice! A new record, by his count. Perhaps this trip wouldn't e as bad as he had initially thought.

Of course, with his luck, something was just bound to go wrong.

Luckily, if whatever ended up going awry happened to be a natural disaster, Shade, his Absol, would be able to warn him. Granted, it would probably end up being something completely unnatural, so it would come without warning.

It always did.

But he couldn't start worrying just yet. His adventure hadn't even started, after all.

He was on his way to Tebra City in order to meet up with a friend and perhaps crash at his place for the night. After that, he would gather up his things and start out on a journey around the region.

The region, Nyxia, was an island far off the coast of Kalos. It bordered upon a tropical climate, but, for the most part, it remained temperate. There was a jungle on the southern end of the island, though.

There wasn't much of an established Pokémon League here, yet—a few up and coming gyms here and there—but there was a tournament. The Shadow Tournament was a tradition here, and it had opened up to the many foreigners that started flooding the region within the past few years. It required challengers to obtain five shadowmarks before they could partake in the tournament, and that's just what Matt aimed to do.

Right now, though, he was starting to realize that it was a bit too sunny and warm for his current attire. He rolled up his sleeves, dropped his hood and adjusted his baseball cap to keep the sun from assailing his eyes.

There was a small, annoyed growl that came from Matt's right. He turned his head and looked at Shade with a bemused look.

"Would you like me to carry one of those bags?" he asked the feline pokémon. Both he and Shade were carrying three decently heavy bags, and they had been walking for a little while now.

Shade gave an indignant snort, feeling as though Matt had just insulted his pride.

Matt laughed. "Then quit complaining, you lummox. We'll only be a few more minutes."

At least that much was true. They had just entered Tebra City, and Scott's house shouldn't have been very much further.

A car horn blared. "Hey, moron!" The driver yelled, laughing as he did so.

"Scott?" Matt turned, slightly confused.

"Why didn't you call and tell e you'd be getting here early?" Scott questioned as he got out of his car, smiling. "Had I not called your sister, I wouldn't have known."

Matt blinked, still a bit startled. "I figured I would surprise you."

"Well, color me surprised." Scott wrapped his arms around Matt and embraced him. Matt struggled to maneuver his arms under the weight of his bags, but he managed to return the gesture.

"Oh! Here, let me grab those for you." Without waiting for Matt to respond, Scott grabbed Matt's bags and placed them into the trunk of his car. He did the same with Shade's bags, enthusiastically ruffling the white fur on his head as he did so.

Matt jokingly pushed the pokémon with his knee. Shade loved Scott to an almost annoying level, and Matt had to admit that it made him jealous at times.

Shade turned to Matt and lightly kicked him in the knee before gleefully hopping into the back seat of Scott's car.

"Ready to go?" Scott closed the trunk of his car and walked around to the driver's seat.

"C'mere," Matt said, stepping towards Scott. He grabbed the shorter man by the waist, pulled him closed and pressed their lips together.

After about thirty seconds, Matt released Scott and allowed him to get into his car, blushing.

Matt got into the passenger seat as Scott started the ignition. His attention was almost immediately drawn to Shade. "Are you purring?"

Shade was eying them both with a look that might have been satisfaction.

First of all, I would just like to thank you for taking the time to review my work. It had been sitting there for a while and I was worried no one was going to review it. I agreed on most points and changed most of the things you pointed out. I do have a problem overusing commas, and I actually have no idea when semi colons are appropriate. As far as the length, I do agree I flew through it a little too quickly, but I'm afraid that's about as long as it's going to get for now. I was never good at drawing out passages while still making them interesting, but it never hurts to try.

I thought since you reviewed my work, it would only be fair to return the favor. While I have the time. Just like you, I'll start with the annoying grammar nazi approach.

Quote:

Perhaps this trip wouldn't e as bad as he had initially thought.

I think you forgot the "b" in "be" here.

Quote:

It bordered upon a tropical climate, but, for the most part, it remained temperate.

I felt like the comma after "but" was a little excessive. There's technically nothing wrong with it, but I would consider revising it.

Quote:

"Why didn't you call and tell e you'd be getting here early?"

You forgot the "m" in "me".

Quote:

"Well, color me surprised."

This sure is an interesting expression. It might be just me, but I've never heard this phrase before and it struck me as a little odd.

In the prologue we have a battle about to start. I'm not sure how this ties in with the first chapter, but I expect the connection to be revealed later on. I have no problems with the prologue, except for the dialogue, but I'll get to that a little later.

To answer your concern about the first chapter. Yes, it does escalate too quickly, at least for me. Up until that point it had just seemed like they were good friends. Since you had no intentions of them being gay, if you wanted to hold off for now and possibly let the relationship grow over the course of the story, it could add another dimension. Of course, this is your story, so do what you want, but for me it escalated too quickly.

Okay, I'm having problems about the dialogue. Not about what the characters are saying, but rather how it's formatted. I don't think you should bold your dialogue. The reader already gets that the characters are speaking, so I don't see how the bold adds to the story. Just a formatting thing that I have an issue with.

This is clearly a Trainer Journey fic (titled in such a generic way that it's laughable) but hopefully this first chapter will intrigue you enough to give it the benefit of the doubt. Since it's been a while since I wrote anything, I'm open to constructive criticism and any advice anyone can give. I hope to better myself as we go along. I intend to write out the first few chapters as a sort of pilot before writing out the whole story from then on and seeing if I can garner any readers.

Pokemon: The Black & White Adventure

Chapter 1: Little White (& Blue) Lies

"Rise and shine, Hilda! Today's the day you've been waiting for!"

Hearing her mother's jubilant voice and the knocking on the door managed to wake Hilda up but not completely. Like a zombie fresh from the grave, she still felt drowsy as she groggily lifted herself up to see the time on her alarm clock.

7:00?! AM?! I don't think so, she thought, mentally sighing to herself. Though she was often full of energy during the day, by no means was she a morning person. At least not before eight sharp. Today was no exception even if it was very special.

"Just five more minutes, Mom," Hilda managed to respond with before lying back down to resume her slumber. It was an overused as all hell line but it was all she had at the moment.

Hilda shut her eyes and turned her back towards the door. She then heard the door open followed by her mother, Helga, stepping inside her bedroom.

Helga sighed and frowned at the sight of her 14-year-old daughter sprawled all over the bed, her pink pajamas still on and long brown hair a mess. "You know, when you ask for five minutes, you never live up to your end of the bargain," she said with her hands on her hips in a stern yet motherly pose.

"Just let me sleep a little longer and I'll be good to go," mumbled Hilda, rolling over to face her back at her mother and trying to rest up some more. "I've got time to spare before the Professor comes."

Their pet Minccino, Minnie, was holding onto Helga's head and was keen to chime in. [Really now, Hilda,] she said in the language of her species, frowning sternly. [You're going to be a Trainer very soon. This isn't the sort of behavior you want to exhibit to the Pokemon. They're going to look up to you as their coach and caretaker.]

Hilda was in no mood to deal with Minnie's nagging this early in the morning. She pulled the covers over her head to try and shut them out. As of now, she was deep in the heart of Snoozeville, Population: her.

Helga and Minnie were upset when they spotted Hilda's now exposed feet and got a mischievous idea to really get her up and at 'em. They exchanged smirks with each other to see that they were on the same wavelength. Helga motioned for the bed and Minnie stealthily leaped down to scamper across the floor. The Chinchilla Pokemon then quietly leapt onto the edge of the bed where Hilda's feet were exposed. She tried hard to stifle in her laughter as she brushed Hilda's soles with her gray fluffy tail.

Feeling the ticklish sensation caused Hilda's eyes to shoot open and her body to spaz out as she let out a laugh herself. She accidently kicked Minnie off the bed and rolled off the edge, taking the covers with her. Hitting the floor was enough to really wake her up but she wasn't hurt badly.

Helga held herself as she chuckled at her little joke and squatted down to her daughter still on the floor. "I'm glad you changed your mind, sweetie," she cheerfully said, done laughing but still amused.

Hilda, however, did not appreciate her rude awakening. "Seriously, Mom?" groaned Hilda as she got up to stretch out and yawn. "You and Minnie promised to never tickle me awake again!" At times, her mother could be more of a best friend than a parent. While it was fun and all, she could be a little too playful sometimes with Hilda. Minnie was also a playful, even for a neat freak and a nagger.

Minnie stepped over from the bed, still feeling Hilda's kick. [I admit that I did deserve that. Many apologies, Hilda.] She was responded with a roll of Hilda's eyes.

"I'm sorry too," said Helga softly, starting to show a somber look on her face. "I only wanted to have some more fun with my little girl before she set out on her journey." She then moved in to embrace her daughter with a big hug. "You know I'm going to miss you very much."

Hilda let her irritation go to receive her mother's warmness and return the hug, smiling all the while. "I'll miss you too, mom," she said before the hug was over. "But hey, we can still see each other every now and then and you'll have Minnie to keep you company. Besides, I wouldn't be a Trainer without your help, Champ."

Helga smiled once more. "You're absolutely right. And speaking of Pokemon Trainers," she said while reaching into her pants pocket to take out a small rectangular box tied with a bow, "guess who came early to deliver the starters?"

Hilda gasped in amazement as her eyes widened. "No way," she practically whispered with her mouth quivering before swiping the box from her mother's hands and tearing it open. Inside it, to her ultimate delight, were three half-red and half-white balls each with a white button. A big bright smile widen on her face as she breathing became heavy to compose herself.

"Aurea decided to have the starters delivered ahead of schedule since she assumed you couldn't wait. Also as your teacher, she told me to say 'hello' to you," Helga explained. "So are you wide awake now?" she added before Hilda suddenly embraced her in a big hug, unable to contain herself any longer. The box was tossed away in the heat of the moment but Minnie managed to catch it.

"Are you kidding? This is the greatest moment of my life! I love it!" Hilda squealed as she leaped up and down while clinging to her mother. "I can't tell you how much this means to me!"

Helga managed to break free and get her daughter to simmer down and sit in the bed. "Okay, okay, take in a deep breath. Believe me, I know exactly how you feel," she said smiling. "Just don't get too eager to pick one before your friends arrive, okay?"

"Alright," nodded Hilda, calmer when something dawned on her and caused her to glare at her mother and Minnie. "You know, if you had shown me the box from the get-go instead of tickling me, I would've gotten up in an instant."

"Hey, it was a harmless joke as all," Helga protested when the three of them heard the doorbell ringing and a familiar voice calling out to them.

"Hey, Hilda! Guess who's ready to be a Trainer?"

"Man, everyone's a morning person but me today," remarked Hilda before asking her mother, "Can you show them in while I get dressed?"

[As you wish, Miss Helga,] Minnie responded politely, placing the box on the floor and leaving the room alongside her owner.

The doorbell continued to be rung as Helga and Minnie made their way downstairs. "Hold your horses, you two," Helga called out, rushing as fast as she could. Reaching the front door, she opened it up to greet her guests. "Cheren, Bianca, good morning. This is quite the surprise, I must say."

"Sorry if we woke you up, Mrs. Helga," Cheren Blakely said politely as he and Bianca began to take a step inside. "We-"

Minnie interrupted them by clearing her throat, getting their attention as well. [I'm sure it merely slipped your minds but any and all footwear is to be left by the front door,] she said in a stern tone of voice. Though Hilda's friends didn't understand the speech of Pokemon, they knew Minnie enough to get what she was saying.

"Alright, we read you, Minnie," said Cheren as he removed his blue and black shoes to leave them by the front door while Bianca did the same with her yellow shoes along with him. She also put down her green purse too.

"Let's just say I had a hunch that a certain somebody would be trying to sleep in as usual despite what today is," said Cheren, adjusting his glasses. "So I left at least fifteen minutes earlier."

Bianca Whitley frowned as she adjusted her green beret, knowing whom Cheren was talking about. "I told you that I would've gotten up eventually. Besides, it takes time for a girl to look her best."

"Fifty years, I'm sure," Cheren said in a deadpan manner. "I've been doing this for you since the 4th grade. I think I know what I'm getting at here."

Helga moved in between them to break up the argument in progress. "Anyhow, Hilda's upstairs getting dressed and Professor Juniper recently came along to deliver the starters. So how are your folks at home?"

"Unfortunately, my dad had to attend a school meeting in Aspertia City early in the morning," said Cheren. "But my mom helped me pack last night."

"My Dad's doing fine but I think he was a bit sad to see me off," said Bianca, seeming sort of somber in her tone. "Not that I really blame him-" She stopped when they all heard the sound of rapid footsteps from upstairs.

"Hey, sorry for the hold up, guys!" Hilda said as she went downstairs to the foyer, now wearing blue denim shorts, a white tank top and black socks with her hair done up in a ponytail.

"Oh, Hilda! Good Morning!" said Bianca, perking up and heading over to embrace her best friend in a hug. "Nice outfit. It's definitely you hands down."

"Thanks but I'm not sure if I can say the same for yours," Hilda said while returning the hug. She took note of Bianca wearing an orange vest over a white gown and orange leggings. "I don't think that was part of Elesa's summer lineup."

"Yeah, but it's a classic. Better than Cheren's any day," Bianca chuckled, referring to Cheren's outfit, consisting of a pair of dark blue pants, a light blue jacket and a white shirt. Awfully formal in her opinion.

Cheren frowned and folded his arms. "Well, not that I really care about fashion but aren't those shorts cutting it a tad too close, Hilda?"

Hilda giggled. "What, are they too long for you" she teased, making a lewd look on her face.

The flabbergasted look on Cheren's face was enough to get Hilda, Helga and Bianca roaring with laughing. "That was never funny to begin with and you know it!" he said, red in the face. "Is it too much to ask for our Pokemon already?"

Composing herself at once, Hilda took the box of Pokemon out from her right pocket as she began heading for the living room with everyone following. "Fine, it's best we cut to the chase already," she said as she sat down on the couch along with Bianca and Cheren.

"I'll fix us up some breakfast," Helga said as she headed for the kitchen.

[And I'll stay here and inspect the new arrivals for any germs,] Minnie said, leaping onto the couch alongside Hilda.

Hilda placed the box onto the table before them and took off the lid to reveal the Poke Balls to the excitement of herself and her friends. "I'll let you two go first and the one left is all mine," she offered generously.

"Don't mind if I do," said Bianca as she took the Poke Ball labeled "Tepig" and pressed the white button to enlarge the ball, deactivating the locking mechanism. "Tepig, come out and meet your Trainer."

The ball opened up in half with a "click" with blue-white formless energy bursting out of the ball like flooding water after a dam burst. The energy leapt down to the floor near the couch and took on physical shape as the orange-black Fire-Pig Pokemon known as Tepig. The Fire Pig stretch itself out after being in the ball for sometime and took a look at his new surroundings.

"Wow-," Bianca begun to say before Minnie cut her off."

[Don't get up just yet,] the Minccino said as she leapt down to the floor and went over to inspect the visitor. She sniffed Tepig and eyed him for any kind of grim while making him feel uncomfortable. [You pass. Just don't sneeze any smoke, understood?] She tiptoed away with her eyes still on Tepig who was confused by this.

Bianca giggled at Tepig's face of bewilderment and got up to see her starter Pokemon. "Don't mind her, Tepig, she's just a neat freak as all," she said while squatting down to get a closer look at her Pokemon. "Anyways, it's good to meet you. I'm Bianca."

Looking up at Bianca, Tepig recognized the voice as the one who called him out. [Oh, so you're my Trainer. Hi, I'm Tepig!] he proclaimed while shining his brightest smile that pierced the heart of Bianca.

"Oh my goodness, you're even cuter in the flesh," Bianca squealed as she grabbed Tepig and hugged him, pushing him up to her chest while jumping up and down in joy. "And you're so warm! I just know that we're going to be such great friends!"

[Likewise,] Tepig managed to say despite the tight embrace; though appreciative of the affection he's receiving. In addition, Bianca was very pretty like Professor Cedric Juniper's daughter…

"I'd recommend not hugging him to death before you can find out," Cheren quipped as he took the Poke Ball labeled "Snivy" for himself and pressed the button to enlarge it. "Come on out, Snivy."

The ball opened to release energy that leapt onto the table to become the green-white snake Pokemon, Snivy. He was taking in his new surrounding when Minnie lashed out at the newcomer, seeing where he was on.

[You there!] the Minccino yelled with the utmost anger. [I just had that table swept ten times over in the last four hours! Remove yourself from there immediately!]

Snivy didn't take kindly to others ordering him about and was naturally irritated by Minnie. He turned to the source of the voice while still keep his cool. [Then just clean it again later, hothead,] he said smugly, smiling at how worked up Minnie was. [That shouldn't be so hard to figure out. At least, I hope it's not, simpleton.]

Minnie was furiously gritting her teeth at such condescension thrown her way but tried her best to put a lid on it. A worried Hilda was almost surprise to not see steam coming out of her ears.

Snivy ignored the elephant in the room and turned to the two humans before him. [So who was the one who called for me?]

"That would be Cheren," answered Hilda, pointing to her friend on her left.

Snivy took a good look at his new Trainer, maintaining his cool and collected demeanor, and sniffed, folding his tiny arms. [Eh, you look okay. A bit pale and scrawny for a Trainer but beggars can't be chooser, now can they?]

Cheren frowned at Snivy's tone and mannerisms. "I don't know what you just said but I doubt I'd like it."

"Well, it was blunt, judgmental and a bit too honest," Hilda said before laughing a little. "On the bright side, you two already have something in common."

"How reassuring," said Cheren drolly, rolling his eyes at Hilda's brand of humor.

Hilda took the last Poke Ball left in the box that was labeled "Oshawott" and pressed the white button to enlarge it. "And now for the moment I've been waiting for," she said with excitement. She took in a deep breath to calm down and held up the ball, saying, "Up an' at 'em, Oshawott!"

The same blue-white energy burst out of the ball and landed on the floor to take physical shape as the blue-white Sea Otter Pokemon, Oshawott. The little guy looked around himself with a wide-eyed look of curiosity and nativity, being use to the inside of the laboratory. He saw Hilda getting up from the couch and walking over to him with a smile on her face. Unsure of whom she was, Oshawott began to feel nervous.

[Um, hello,] Oshawott said in a meek tone of voice that gave off a vibe of timidness. [Are you going to be my Pokemon Trainer?]

"I sure as heck am," said Hilda happily, smiling warmly so as to make Oshawott feel more at ease. "My name's Hilda. Don't ask if I have a last name because I don't. Well, I use to before Mom removed it but that's beside the point. It's nice to meet you, Oshawott."

Hearing this, Oshawott soon realized that he himself should've shown more respect to his Trainer. [It's a pleasure for me as well,] he said, bowing like a Samurai. [I hope that I can serve you well on your journey.]

Hilda giggled, endeared by Oshawott's humbleness and politeness. "Oh my, aren't you the littlest gentlemen now?" she complimented, petting Oshawott on the noggin. "Please, don't be so formal with me. I'm your friend as I am your Trainer. And I prefer Hilda for the record."

Oshawott blushed and smiled at the gesture and the compliment when a stern-looking Minnie surprised him upon turning to his left. She made a menacing "I have my eye on you" gesture before tiptoeing away to attend to Helga, leaving Oshawott speechless.

"Don't mind Minnie," Hilda said. "She just tends to be on-edge when cleanliness is a concern." She put out her right hand to Oshawott. "Anyways, here's to our friendship and our team to be. One down, five to go."

Hesitant at first, Oshawott put out his left paw for Hilda to take and shake with. [Sure, I look forward to working together.] He had a good feeling about this girl, better than he had expected. Hopefully, he could be better than she had expected in due time.

"Hey, guys," Helga yelled from the kitchen. "Breakfast will be ready soon. Why don't you go outside and practice a few moves with your Pokemon? Maybe get to know each other better with a few games too, you know?"

"Sure, Mom!" Hilda responded.

That's the entire first part of Chapter 1. Feel free to rip it apart as much as you'd like, giving me an extensive list on what I did horribly wrong and a miniscule list of what I did right (a stopped clock is right twice a day). Just remember that I've writing four chapters and thing may not be as they seem. And yes, Hilda and Helga can communicate with Pokemon and, yes, this will go somewhere other than it being cool.

__________________

Pokemon: The Black & White Adventure: 14 year old Hilda is a Pokemon Trainer with a secret: she can talk to Pokemon. After setting off into Unova with her starter, she gets involved in the affairs of Team Plasma and becomes acquainted with N, a mysterious guy her age with the exact same abilities as her. While enjoying her life, a tangled web of mystery is weaved around her and the reveal may shock her beyond belief.

I felt like the comma after "but" was a little excessive. There's technically nothing wrong with it, but I would consider revising it.

Hmm . . . I suppose it is. I'll take that out~

Quote:

Originally Posted by Slayr231

This sure is an interesting expression. It might be just me, but I've never heard this phrase before and it struck me as a little odd.

I think it's an older expression, but it's an expression. :> Odd is okay! Lol

Quote:

Originally Posted by Slayr231

To answer your concern about the first chapter. Yes, it does escalate too quickly, at least for me. Up until that point it had just seemed like they were good friends. Since you had no intentions of them being gay, if you wanted to hold off for now and possibly let the relationship grow over the course of the story, it could add another dimension. Of course, this is your story, so do what you want, but for me it escalated too quickly.

This is what happens when school and guys and hormones and that's when I write it and blegh
I fixed it, though. On paper, at least. I have a better idea of how to go about this now, anyways. So, it's all good.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Slayr231

Okay, I'm having problems about the dialogue. Not about what the characters are saying, but rather how it's formatted. I don't think you should bold your dialogue. The reader already gets that the characters are speaking, so I don't see how the bold adds to the story. Just a formatting thing that I have an issue with.

Old roleplaying habit that I've become attached to. :x Pfft, a year or two ago I even used to color code dialogue by character. Glad I got passed that. . . .
I'll see about removing it. It's . . . um, I suppose it's not needed as much in fanfiction as it might be in roleplaying, at least when it comes to its usefulness.

@matt0044 - I would try and review yours, but I've had a busy day today and so don't have much time. HMM, if I post a fixed copy of my passage tomorrow, I'll see about reviewing it. Otherwise, it'll probably get a review before I can get around to it. d:

Here's the second part of Chapter 1, directly continued from up there. Once again, I'm looking for feedback and all four chapters so far can be found via the link in my description.

Quote:

The three friends and their Pokemon headed outside where the weather was moderately warm, being the middle of June and all. After playing a few games, Cheren had suggested they let their Pokemon show what they were made of. Hilda got out three posts with a target on each one to stick into the ground and went over to stand a distance from them with everyone else.

Bianca nodded and turned to face three metallic target a short distance from them. "Go on, Tepig. Show us the power you're packing."

Tepig's nostrils flared with determination with actual smoke puffing out and stepped up from Bianca's side. Figuring that bringing out the big guns would make for a good impression, he began concentrating to amplify the Fire power in his body.

Once ready, he dashed off like a comet and looked like one too with a bright, fiery tail streaking behind him. In just one second, he hit the middle target head on and calmly landed back on the ground, leaving a big, smoldering dent in the bull's eyes. To say everyone else was surprised would've been a flat-out understatement. Even Snivy looked awestruck before returning to his stuck-up demeanor to save face.

Bianca smiled as she went over to praise her Tepig. "That was one excellent Flame Charge!" she cheered joyfully, picking Tepig up to look at his in the eye. "I knew I had the right Pokemon in mind choosing you! You're a real cute bruiser for sure."

[Aw yeah!] Tepig squealed and snorted, happy to gain praise from his Trainer and see her smile. [I kick butt!]

Snivy sniffed. [How very optimistic of them,] he said before turning to Cheren beside. [What's say we display my capabilities so they can remember their place, shall we?] He noticed Hilda shooting him a dirty look along with Oshawott strangely enough.

Cheren saw Snivy talking to him and could figure out what he was being told. "Alright, we'll be going on up next. Snivy, show your stuff!"

[With pleasure,] said Snivy as he stepped up closer to the target on the left-hand side. Two green vines sprouted from under his yellow shoulder growth and he swung them each to strike the target again and again, creating dents in it with his Vine Whip attack. One final whip was enough to make a hole in the bull's eye.

[And now for the coup de grace,] said Snivy with glint in his eyes. He leapt up high into the air and, once above the target, began spinning around to create a Leaf Tornado. The wind around him formed a green cyclone with his Grass power that wrecked the target below.

Hilda, Bianca and Cheren were naturally impressed but the same couldn't be said for Oshawott and Tepig who knew Snivy was showing off. Oshawott, in particular, felt uneasy seeing the target destroyed like that, having been a regular victim of Snivy's power during sparring sessions in the lab.

Once the cyclone dissipated, Snivy landed on the ground gracefully and walked back to Cheren. [No need for any applause. I'm well aware of my greatness, thank you.]

Yeesh, Hilda groaned mentally. And I thought Watcher was full of himself. She took in a deep breath and turned to look down at Oshawott. "It's our turn now, Oshawott. Show us your moves."

Gulping, Oshawott nodded yes and began to walk up to the target on the right, his heart racing in anxiety. You can do this, Oshawott. It's just a harmless target. Imagine Snivy's face on it and you're good.

[Go get it, Oshawott!] cheered Tepig.

[Yes, do break a leg out there,] Snivy said with a snide undertone. [Oh, and do your best as well.]

Ignoring that obvious insult, Oshawott took in a deep breath to gather his Water power and spewed from his mouth a concentrated column of water. The blast hit the target in the bull's eye dead on, making a major dent in the circle and bending the post back a bit. The impact made the others jump a bit from the sound.

To finish things off, Oshawott removed the Scalchop from the suction of his bellybutton and held it before him with both of his paws. Concentrating his power on the shell, a blue aura appeared on the Scalchop and stretched into a sharp Shell Blade, hardening into a solid. Hilda and the others were intrigued by where this was going.

With his weapon ready, Oshawott sprung up into the air and began his descent towards the target with his Shell Blade held above himself. When the moment and position was right, Oshawott brought down his blade on the target and, as he fell to the ground, sliced through it down the middle. Landing gracefully, he made the Shell Blade disappear and swung around to stick the Scalchop back on his bellybutton. Behind him, the target, post and all, split in half and fell to each side. As per usual, everyone else was speechless, including Snivy (not that he would admit it).

Hilda was the one to break the silence. "That… was… awesome!" she managed to say with building elation as she ran over to Oshawott. She squatted to look him in the eye. "Those were some really slick moves. That last one was a real killer most of all."

Oshawott made a bashful look on his face as he laughed. [I'm glad you liked it,] he said, glad to have made a great impression. [Though I must admit that I wasn't really giving it my all.]

"If that was you going easy," started Hilda as she stood up, "then I can hardly wait to really see you in action." Just then, she saw a nervous expression appeared on Oshawott's face, making her concerned. "Is there something wrong?"

Realizing he's setting off alarms, Oshawott tried to hide his misgivings the best he could. [Nothing's wrong at all. In fact, I look forward to showing what else I can do in battle.]

Snivy sniffed and rolled his eyes at such a lie while Tepig got concerned for his friend.

Hilda was still concerned but thought it best not to push it. "Oh, okay," she said. "I think Mom should be done making breakfast, right about now."

"Finally," Bianca chimed in. "I didn't get to eat much of anything at home." She eyed Cheren glaringly as they all turned to walk back to the house. "At least I would've in due time."

"At your pace?" quipped Cheren. "Don't make me laugh." Just as he touched the backdoor's knob, they all hear someone clear their throat and looked to their left where Minnie had the hose turned on and in her paws.

[My apologies for the inconvenience,] said Minnie with a smile on her face, [but outside is where you're most susceptible to grim and germs. Something I absolutely cannot tolerate.]

[Oh, good grief,] said Snivy. This time, nobody could blame him.

Now assuming you managed to trudge threw all that tripe, please tell me what you thought.

__________________

Pokemon: The Black & White Adventure: 14 year old Hilda is a Pokemon Trainer with a secret: she can talk to Pokemon. After setting off into Unova with her starter, she gets involved in the affairs of Team Plasma and becomes acquainted with N, a mysterious guy her age with the exact same abilities as her. While enjoying her life, a tangled web of mystery is weaved around her and the reveal may shock her beyond belief.

Realizing he's setting off alarms, Oshawott tried to hide his misgivings the best he could.

Rather than "he's", I'd put "he was" - otherwise you automatically read it as a contraction of "he is", which is disconcerting.

Quote:

[My apologies for the inconvenience,] said Minnie with a smile on her face, [but outside is where you're most susceptible to grim and germs. Something I absolutely cannot tolerate.]

I'm not entirely convinced by this. Is this person going to drench them all purely because they've been outside? It seems... a disproportionate reaction, to say the least. Also, "grim" ought to be "grime".

I think you lay on Snivy's superiority a little thickly - you don't have to remind us of his arrogance every time he's mentioned, and in fact the way that you do makes it less convincing. It's better in the parts where you show it to us - as when he says that he doesn't need applause - than when you mention it directly through those parenthetical remarks. One or two of those would be fine, but so many instances veers towards overuse.

Overall, it's not a bad scene, but I'm not sure it stands alone well; it probably needs to be taken in context.

Now for something from me. This is a scene from something I wrote a while ago; the year is 1905, the place is London, and a Massachusetts cat and an English thief are stealing Queen Victoria's soul from those who embezzled it on her deathbed in order to ransom it back to the Royal Family.

Spoiler:

Cornhill at midnight. Deserted, save for the dauntless lampposts, standing on guard in all weathers without cease; dark too, save for where they cast their glow, and those rare spots that fell beneath a gap in the clouds and received the blessing of the moonlight. The streets surrounding the Bank were always empty at night, or nearly so; few cared for the place in daylight, but in the dark the great building looked more predatory than ever, a great rusting dragon coiled over its precious hoard of souls.

Isidore Swan had been waiting for the dragon to breathe for a long time, and so had Edgar. Neither of them had moved an inch since taking up their positions: Isidore was taut with anticipatory excitement, while Edgar had the quiet, calm patience of the hunting cat.

(It might have been called foolhardy to attempt to enter the Bank straight away, without more preparation, more refinement of the plan, more casing of the joint. Isidore did not care: he was full of the confidence of youth, and besides, how could one case the Bank of Asphodel any more than he already had done? He could not have done so without actually breaking into it, at which point he might as well just have gone ahead with the finished plan. Besides, time was of the essence: every day that the erstwhile Queen's soul resided in the Bank's vaults, its masters came a little closer to leaving London, and taking the better part of its wealth with them.)

And then it happened, while they were blinking: one moment, there was a hot iron wall there, and then – blink! – there was a green door in its place, and there was a Banker emerging from it.

At his side, Isidore sensed Edgar stiffen. He could not, he reflected, be enjoying this little adventure very much. After all, no ex-convict relished the prospect of returning to prison, and the Bank, he imagined, was a significantly worse place to be imprisoned than any mortal jail.

The Banker stepped lightly away around the corner. Isidore waited to see if another would follow – but none did, and so, clenching his shaking hands into fists to steady them, he crept across the road and over to the door.

He took a deep breath. He looked at Edgar.

Then, afire with trepidation and delight, he turned the handle, and stepped into the Bank.

Immediately, he recognised where he was: the main hall, by the counters – the same place where Augustus Pinch had noticed the mysterious stranger being led to. Yes, he thought, there was the other door, and over there was the little low arch between the desks. And here, he reflected with a grimace, was the Bank's famous heat. It was a little cooler at night, but it was still close to stifling. A fitting sort of air to find in the lungs of the dragon, he thought to himself.

Edgar tugged gently at his trouser leg.

“Come on,” he said softly. “The less time...”

Isidore Swan nodded and stole across to the arch with him. Kneeling, he found its interior studded, as expected, with the same small holes that were in evidence in the door frame; he plugged each one with a tight-fitting length of rubber-coated steel – a device he had invented himself, after he had first encountered spring-loaded spikes. (With the arrival of the goblins' mechanical wizards had come several rather brutal innovations in home security. Apparently goblins regarded theft as punishable by death; many wealthy homeowners seemed to agree, judging by the readiness with which they had adopted their security mechanisms.) It had been his luck that he had had rods of the right width in stock; Augustus Pinch's measurements had stood him in good stead.

He realised then that he had forgotten to plug the holes in the frame of the green door, and went back to do so, hammering each rod in so it was flush with the iron frame. He didn't doubt that whatever infernal spikes the Bankers used would be capable of dislodging or even spearing straight through his plugs – but in the event that they were activated, Isidore preferred to have at least a second or two of protection.

“I'll check ahead now,” he whispered to Edgar. “One moment.”

Without waiting for an answer, he crawled silently through the arch and peered cautiously out of the other end. He was greeted by what looked like a continuation of the main hall, only perhaps slightly narrower: a huge, dark space bounded by iron walls, stretching away further than he could see. It was also, as far as he could make out, deserted.

Isidore wriggled backwards and nodded to Edgar.

“Seems clear,” he said. “Now you check.”

“Why me?”

“You have better night vision,” explained Isidore, “but I had to check first to see if anyone was close enough to see your eyes shining.”

“Ah.” Edgar nodded slowly; it was gradually dawning on him that there was a whole host of things about burglary that Isidore knew to do without thinking that he had never even considered. “All right.”

He disappeared into the arch, and Isidore turned his attention to the green door. If the Banker returned before they had left the hall, and if he saw them... Well, he said to himself, there was no need to think about that unless it happened. If Raffles had thought about how he might be tortured before he set to work, reasoned Isidore, he would never have got anywhere at all.

“Clear,” hissed Edgar, intruding upon his thoughts and recalling him to the present, and he crawled through the tunnel to join him on the other side.

“Left-hand corridor when it comes to it, isn't it?” asked Isidore quietly. Edgar nodded, and they began to make their way down the hall, keeping to the left wall, where the shadows gathered most thickly.

It was getting hotter, thought Isidore – hotter and tenser; if for whatever reason a Banker should leave the living quarters for a walk, and if they should come this way, and if...

He blinked the sweat from his eyes and cleared his head with practised ease, as if he were about to change personality; Isidore Swan was not a brave man by nature – in fact, he possessed a remarkable aptitude for slithering away out of windows or half-open doors when real trouble raised its head – but he valued the appearance of bravery as much as he valued the appearance of expertise, or the appearance of wealth. Appearances were all that other people could see of you, after all; what was on the inside wasn't worth a damn.

There were footsteps in the corridor.

Isidore froze. At his feet, Edgar seemed to contract, shrinking into a tiny dark ball.

The footsteps came closer. He could hear them more clearly now – the light, arrhythmic quadruple-thump of a Banker's feet.

They were coming from behind him.

Isidore resisted the urge to turn around, resisted the impulse to try to find out who was coming; he felt for the corners of his psyche and, fumbling in his haste, tugged once – twice – three times, and with the third pull he felt Isidore Swan leave him, and John Smith settle in his place.

And John Smith, as he always did, stood still.

The footsteps were right behind him now, and had John Smith been able to, he would have felt the swish of the air as the Banker's cloak fanned it gently—

And then he was past, and the footsteps faded on ahead of them, swallowed up by the silence like raindrops drowning in a puddle.

Edgar pawed at John Smith's ankle.

“Isidore?” he hissed. “Come on. He's gone.”

There was no reply. One did not generally receive replies from John Smith. He was not so much a personality as an absence of personality; he was oblivion, an empty driver's seat in a darkened omnibus.

“Isidore?”

Isidore Swan blinked slowly awake on the back seat of the omnibus, clawing his way out of sleep with weak fingers, and with a tremendous effort hauled himself onto his feet; the world seemed to flicker like a dying candle-flame, halfway between reality and somewhere else entirely, but he managed to get at least halfway down the aisle before collapsing. His eyes slipped shut for a moment – but he hooked his fingers under his eyelids and dragged them back open, heedless of the pain. He must not sleep, or someone else would take the wheel, and considering the circumstances, that could be fatal...

“My apologies,” he said. “He would have sensed a human, even one hiding, so I had to, er, retreat quite deeply within myself to escape his notice. Something like a self-induced coma.”

“Is that even possible?” asked Edgar. There was a note of scepticism in his voice.

“I assure you it is,” replied Isidore. “Mental tricks are something of a speciality of mine; I'm a man of many talents.”

“All right, all right,” said Edgar. “There'll be time to argue later. For now, there are more important matters to take care of.”

Isidore could have pointed out that it was in fact Edgar who had started the argument (and in fact was sorely tempted to do so) – but, as he said, there were more important matters to take care of, so he simply nodded his agreement and moved on.

The junction, when it came, was more forceful than Isidore had expected: he had envisioned a gentle fork, but instead the two passages curved back on either side of the hall like the prongs of an arrowhead. One seemed to slope gently upwards, as far as he could make out in the dark; the other, the left-hand one, sloped down.

It was a lot shorter than Isidore had thought.

This meant he could see what lay at the end of it.

He swallowed.

“Edgar,” he said. “That shape there. Is that...?”

“Yes,” he answered. “That's the dog.”

“Good Lord,” breathed Isidore. “It's enormous.”

It was more than enormous. The dog was easily the largest animal he had ever seen; its soft dark bulk filled the corridor as if the walls had been built up around it. The details of its heads, its limbs, its tail were all lost in its sheer immensity; all Isidore could appreciate of it was its size.

“Not even Mister Holmes ever had to deal with a hound this size,” he murmured. “And his had only one head into the bargain...”

He reached for the bundle on his back and tugged it free, turning it over in his hands.

“I hope to God that thing's strong enough,” said Edgar, echoing his own thoughts.

“There is,” replied Isidore, drawing himself up to his full height and resolutely banishing all visions of the possible consequences from his head, “only one way to find out.”

And taking the wrapped steak in hand, he set off down the corridor towards the slumbering beast.

Edgar watched him go with a look that implied that, while he wished him all the best, he did not hold out much hope for his safe return. The dog was asleep at least, he reflected, which was something of a blessing. It would give him a chance, albeit a slim one. If it had been suffering from indigestion this night, or had chanced to wake from a dream of chasing rabbits in its godforsaken homeland, then they would have been killed as soon as they turned the corner.

“Rather you than me,” he muttered, and curled up as small as he could in the shadows to wait.

Isidore was a man with a quiet pace. He had honed it for years, first at home as a boy, sneaking in and out of rooms behind his parents' backs – practice, he had told himself, for the life of larceny he was to lead – then at school, during unauthorised late-night excursions from his boarding house. By that point, he had it down to a fine art, but he was a perfectionist in this matter and never satisfied: suppose, during some crucial heist, he should step on an unexpectedly creaky floorboard? His feet must be so silent that he could not only recover from such a mishap, but move away without detection so that the noise was attributed to jumpiness or the wind.

So he had gone on practising at Cambridge, where his first real robberies (and indeed first murder) had taken place, and by the time he had graduated and come to London to set up shop for real, he was able to creep up on charnel-bats without them noticing, so silently did he tread.

Tonight, though, as he crept through the hot, oppressive darkness towards the great hound, he surpassed all of his previous achievements in one fell swoop. It was the performance of a lifetime; his feet made so little noise that it was a matter of some debate whether they existed at all, and if he breathed, it was so faintly that even a doctor would have been hard pressed to work out whether he was a man or a phantom. His clothes did not rustle, his sweat did not drip to the floor – and somehow, impossibly, Isidore Swan found himself standing less than a yard from the vast central head of the great dog.

He studied it for a moment. It was as long as his leg, if not longer, and many times as thick; the huge folds of skin on its jowls puddled on the floor like clods of melting fat, and somewhere in that morass of wrinkled skin were two piggy black eyes, shut fast against the night.

Isidore looked to his left. There was another head, as big as the first but with prominent scars on its neck; perhaps one of the other heads had bitten it. The head on the right, he saw, was scarred too; the middle head alone was unmarked, so, he reasoned, it must be the leader.

With the greatest of care, he unwrapped the thick layers of scent-obscuring cloth from the slab of horsemeat and laid it just before the noes of the middle head.

And now it was time for the encore to his last great display of stealth: he slipped away, hugging the wall, as in its sleep the hound recognised the smell of food and began twitching into wakefulness. First an ear twitched, then a paw; Isidore went as fast as he dared, hearing the creature stirring but unable to look back for fear that, somehow, it might sense his eyes upon it.

Edgar watched it all from his end of the passage, eyes wide in the dark, drinking in every detail – see, Isidore almost stumbling in his haste – now the dog, thrusting a paw forwards – and Isidore was moving away faster – and—

All at once the whole mountain of flesh and fur surged up and into life at once, and if the dog had seemed huge as it slept it was positively Brobdingnagian awake: its heads brushed the ceiling and its shoulders the walls, and the light that shone from those six fist-sized eyes was something unholy to behold, lighting up the corridor like bloody suns.

Worst of all, Isidore was only halfway down the corridor.

He froze, too startled even to call on John Smith, and the dog took a step forwards—

And stopped, bending all three heads down to see what it had stepped on. Delighted, it completely forgot that it was supposed to be a vicious guard dog and sat down, wagging its tail vigorously and setting the middle head to tearing chunks of meat from the slab. Occasionally the right and left heads tried to steal a piece, but would always back away if the central head started growling; when the right head finally managed to get a sliver of meat in its mouth, the middle one sank its teeth into its jaw without hesitation, and it dropped it with a whine.

Isidore did not dare breathe.

In ten great bites the meat was gone, and the hellhound sniffed appreciatively. Then it sniffed again, puzzled this time, and got back to its feet. The middle nose began sniffing along the ground, trying to track the odd scent to its source, while the left and right heads kept a strict watch, panning back and forth like indecisive artillery pieces.

Isidore was good at holding his breath, but to tell the truth, he was starting to run out of air. He would have loved to give up his body to John Smith, but twice in one night was too risky; it would not be wise to give him a chance to tighten his grip on his body.

The hound padded closer, sniffing and staring. Perhaps he had calculated the dosage wrongly, thought Isidore – perhaps there wasn't enough toxin to fell such a gigantic animal – God knew that it seemed bigger than Edgar had described—

The questing nose of the middle head was less than five yards away. Why hadn't the others spotted him? Isidore was not sure, but he was in no mood to complain; if he could stay alive, not even necessarily get the soul but just survive this evening, that would be enough for him. He began to imagine what it felt like to be torn in two, to feel inch-thick fangs puncturing your waist, one paw holding you down while the head bent back and pulled, pulled, pulled until your spine gave way with a crack...

The left head, he noticed suddenly, the one that really should have seen him by now, was drooping limply at the hellhound's side. And as the dog snuffled closer, he saw that the right one had slumped as well, and the forelegs beneath them looked a little less certain.

But the middle head was still indisputably awake, and one bark from it would bring all the Bankers in the building down upon their heads, and Isidore could feel it sniffing at his shoes—

The head rose slowly, like a sea serpent raising itself up gently above the waves. Its burning eyes swept up his legs, over his jacket and finally came to rest squarely on Isidore's face.

Isidore Swan smiled weakly. The hellhound, all blazing eyes and foetid breath, did not return the gesture.

It opened its mouth to bark, and Isidore braced himself to run—

A soft, wheezy snore emerged from its throat, and with a great whumph the hound collapsed at his feet.

For a long moment, Isidore stared at the sleeping dog. Then, realising he was close to passing out from lack of air, he let out a long breath and gratefully sucked in another.

“Lord,” hissed Edgar, making his way cautiously around the comatose dog. “Where do you buy your nerves? I could use some as strong as that.”

Isidore Swan cast his fears aside and gave a roguish grin.

“All in a night's work,”he said. “In London, a thief must be prepared for anything.” He glanced down the passage to the wall the dog had been sitting in front of – the wall dominated by a tall, thin door like the lid of a coffin. “Now,” he said, advancing on it. “Let's see if we can't get inside that vault...”

---

Inside the vault, it was as hot as hell and as black as sin. All in all, it seemed rather appropriate.

Isidore had taken care of the door with ease – there was, he liked to say, not a lock built that he could not pick given a couple of wires and ten minutes' jiggling time – and now he and Edgar stood on the threshold of what was quite possibly the greatest treasure trove in the history of the Earth.

“It's so hot,” muttered Edgar. “I don't remember it being this hot.”

“You said yourself your memories were a little fuzzy,” pointed out Isidore. “Come on, let's get inside. We can shut the door then and light the lamp.”

“If you shut the door, we'll be baked to death,” Edgar said. “Leave it open a little, at least.”

Isidore pondered. He did not relish being slow-cooked in a gigantic iron oven, but nor did he desire anyone outside to notice that the door had been opened. In the end, he left the door just slightly ajar – hopefully so little that the glow of his light would not be visible from outside – and backed carefully away from it before lighting the lamp.

(It was an oil lamp, of course. Tesla reception was notoriously unreliable even in the main hall of the Bank, and here at its heart he didn't doubt that the electric torch would have failed to start at all.)

There were no words to finish the sentence, and how could there have been? So many souls, glimmering and glittering in their little jars, stretching away forever on rusty shelves; in the dark, they appeared as very slightly discoloured patches of shadow, but when the light caught them – ah! They iridesced like magpie wings, like puddles of oil, like exotic coral; they flowed and twisted and shaped themselves into little faces before falling apart into drops of pure beauty once again, forever in glistering motion.

“Have you ever seen a soul, Isidore?”

Isidore shook his head.

“No,” he admitted. “Not before tonight.”

“They're pretty, aren't they?” Edgar watched one with avid eyes. He felt an urge to break its jar open, to bat it about between his paws like a moth or a mouse, but he suppressed it: he was not a cat, after all; he was more than a cat, now. “They'd make lovely decorations.”

“That they would,” agreed Isidore. “If I wasn't certain the Bank would be able to sense large quantities of them moving around, I would almost certainly take some home and pump them into the light bulbs.”

“I take it you don't believe in the sanctity of the soul, then?”

Isidore laughed – quietly, but mockingly.

“Really, Edgar, the soul is a metaphysical appendix, as far as I make out. It does nothing, you get on very well without it, and there's always a risk that it will go bad and cause you the most frightful pains.”

“Conscience is the appendicitis of the soul, is it?”

“Exactly.” Isidore beamed. “Now, where is the Queen's soul?”

“I think it's over here,” said Edgar, padding away down the aisle. The souls fluttered in their jars as he passed, pressing themselves against the glass in a fruitless attempt to reach him. When Isidore followed, however, they relaxed, drifting back to the centre of their cells to float and twist aimlessly.

“A long way,” muttered Isidore, after a few minutes. “Just how big is this place?”

“Vast,” replied Edgar. “It's not just souls here, you know – that's just the area near the door. They keep visions here, and memories of distant lights; trophies of old dead monsters, and books that no one can read. Victoria's soul, as I recall, is tucked in among the memories – I'm not sure why. It's part of their filing system; it only really makes sense to Bankers.”

Isidore nodded.

“I see. Perhaps they feel a royal soul ought to be kept apart from the plebeian sort?”

“Perhaps,” agreed Edgar. “I don't rightly know.”

They walked on in silence for a while. The heat seemed to be growing, if anything; Isidore could feel the blood pulse in his head with every heartbeat, and his hair was slick with sweat. It was a wonder, he thought, that all these souls were so well preserved; presumably metaphysical entities didn't go bad in the same way that, for instance, a lamb shank might.

After a little while, the shelves' contents ceased to wink and twirl in the lamplight, and instead of jars Isidore saw aromatic wooden boxes and strangely-shaped tusks; on one shelf were the clawed feet of no creature living, on another a long thin skull like that of some monstrous heron.

“The trophies,” said Edgar. “I don't know where they came from.”

The pickled hand of a European troll; the lethal curved pincers of a bandersnatch – those were the only two items that Isidore could name, and even then their identities did not come to him until days later, when he suddenly recalled pictures from a bestiary he had read as a boy. The rest of the trophies – claws, glands and eyes, makeshift maces and jagged teeth – remained forever mysterious to him. Sometimes he would dream of that place, of the money that could have been made through selling those relics to the right buyer – but he did not take a single one.

(He told himself that this was because he could not identify them and therefore couldn't be certain of finding the right buyer – dead monster parts were not his area of expertise, after all – but in reality, it probably had more to do with a strange feeling he had that this was somewhere not even the bravest thief ought to be, and that if he really had to steal something here then he had better make sure he took as little as was humanly possible.)

After the trophies came the memories: tiny Egyptian faïence pots, no bigger than Edgar's paw, that occasionally began to shake on the shelves for no good reason; they always calmed down after a few seconds, but Isidore couldn't shake the unpleasant feeling that they were about to explode.

“They crammed her into one of these to make her fit in,” said Edgar, casting an eye over the shelves. “It's a blue-black one, slightly bigger than the others. There's a V on it for Victoria.”

The search went on a lot longer than Isidore had envisaged, even with two of them; Edgar could only search along the bottom shelves, for he didn't trust the decrepit metal to take his weight if he climbed it, and that left the best part of the section to Isidore. There didn't seem to be any blue-black pots at all, he realised. Almost all of them were an odd off-white, and most of the rest were green.

All, that is, except that one there.

“Ah,” he said, picking it up. “Edgar, is this the one?”

He knelt down and held out the pot; Edgar came bounding over, whiskers quivering in anticipation.

“Yes,” he breathed, staring at it with naked avarice. “Yes, that's it... that's the one!” He ran a pale tongue over his lips. “Right,” he said, with what was clearly a tremendous effort to keep his voice level, “we can't take it out like that.”

Isidore frowned.

“Why not?”

“The pot's marked,” explained Edgar. “There's a kind of magical tag on it – if it leaves the area, it sets off an alarm. Or at least, I assume there's a tag on it; there was one on me.” He scowled, which was an unusual look for a cat. “That's how they got me the first time I tried to escape. Thankfully that summoning business scrubbed it off me, but there'll be no such luck with this one.”

“So what do we do?” asked Isidore, keeping a tight grip on the pot. (It was starting to go through the shaking routine.) “Pour it out into my pocket?”

Edgar gave him a withering look. Coming from most people, this did not usually affect Isidore, but Edgar's was a very withering look, and he winced slightly under its force.

“It's Queen Victoria's soul,” he said. “Not her jewels. You can't keep it in a pocket, only in a special container. Or in a body,” he added.

Isidore hesitated.

“Ah,” he said. “So one of us needs to absorb it. But then how do we get it out again?”

“Well, we have souls already,” pointed out Edgar. “A second soul won't take. It'll just ride on the top – we could push it out at any time, given a little effort.”

“I wish you'd told me all this before we came here,” said Isidore. “I was under the impression that we could just pick up the soul and get out of here.”

Edgar sighed.

“Perhaps I ought to have made all this a bit clearer,” he admitted. “But we're here now, and we need to get out soon or we'll both collapse from heatstroke. One of us has to absorb the soul.”

“Then, er, it had better be you,” said Isidore diffidently.

Edgar stared at him.

“You? You lost your...?”

“I never lost it,” snapped Isidore. “I know exactly where it is: here.” He waved a hand in the general direction of the soul aisles. “I just decided I didn't need it. And I did need some money for a house.”

“Couldn't you have done what normal people do, and got a loan from a regular bank?”

“Look,” said Isidore, with a certain quiet intensity, “what I do with my soul is my own business. I had my reasons for getting rid of it, and they're as valid now as they ever were. So. If you please, Edgar, ingest Queen Victoria's soul and have done with it.”

“All right,” said Edgar. “Lord. There's no need to be quite so defensive about it.”

Isidore shrugged.

“Let's leave it at that, shall we?”

“All right,” agreed Edgar. “We'll leave it at that. Could you do the honours with the lid?”

Isidore held the pot close under the cat's snout and popped the stopper free, expecting the soul to rise up and out of it – but nothing happened.

“Hm? Are you quite sure there's something in this on—”

Something flickered between the pot's mouth and Edgar's face. It moved when Isidore was blinking, or it moved on planes he could not fully see; whichever it was, it was an odd, shivering thing, a thing that looked like a living breath, and that left the pot unusually light when it was gone.

“Is that it?” asked Isidore, but there was no reply. Edgar was staring straight ahead into space, an odd look in his eyes. “Edgar?”

Still nothing.

“Edgar?”

“Yes!” he cried abruptly. “Yes. Sorry. Who am—? No, never mind.” He shook his head so vigorously that his fur fluffed out. “Ahem.” He looked up at Isidore and blinked rapidly several times. “Now that was odd,” he said. “I've never felt something quite like that before.”

“You did just absorb the soul of our erstwhile monarch,” said Isidore. “I wouldn't be surprised if you had a touch of indigestion.”

“Cosmic indigestion,” said Edgar. “Indigestion of the anima.” He shivered. “Like having curry powder thrust directly into your soul.”

“She may have been marinated in spices,” ventured Isidore. “She was the Empress of India.”

“She was also Queen of England,” replied Edgar. “A country where good food is boiled to a flavourless death.” He shook his head. “No, it wasn't spicy. It was just... odd. I've never done that before – only heard about the theory when the Bankers were discussing it.”

“Indeed. Well,” said Isidore, “might I suggest we drink the water and then leave? I don't know about you, but I fear I may be on the verge of unconsciousness, and I have precious little desire to pass out here for a Banker to find in the morning.”

“Right,” agreed Edgar. “Good idea.”

Isidore brought out the bottles and they drained them swiftly, then set off back down the aisle. This time, as Edgar passed them, the souls twirled and bounced even more vigorously; Isidore, by contrast, seemed to inspire something like absolute revulsion in them.

When they reached the great door, Isidore extinguished the lamp and slipped through the little gap into the corridor. It was excruciatingly hot here, too, but after the vault it felt like stepping into a cool breeze. Even the warm, rank wind of the hellhound farting in its sleep didn't seem that bad.

“Lord,” hissed Edgar. “I hate dogs.”

“You would,” whispered Isidore. “Come on.”

So began the long journey back down the passage, and then around into the hall – and on further still, down the main corridor, until from behind them they heard the dog wake with a pained, groggy yelp, and without a word Isidore and Edgar both broke into a run.

Isidore was, of course, far faster, and he snatched up Edgar as they neared the archway; he could hear the leather flutter of wings, and the yowling caterwauling of an alarm, but he ignored them and flung himself to the floor, rolling through the little tunnel. The holes in the walls clunked as he passed, trying to disgorge spring-loaded spikes – but the plugs held firm, at least for the two seconds it took him to scramble out the other end, and it was not until he was back on his feet and sprinting for the exit that the tunnel became a mess of criss-crossed metal.

Here in the main hall, ports were opening in the ceiling, and furry things were falling like rain; one landed on Isidore's arm – but pain is something one feels, and Isidore Swan almost never felt anything at all, and so he barely noticed as the lump of fluff sank its iron teeth into his flesh all the way to the bone.

And then there was the door, and Isidore slammed it open with his shoulder and stumbled through—

—and out onto Cornhill, the October night air taking his breath away with a short sharp gasp. The alarm stopped abruptly: it only sounded within the Bank's walls. If the Bankers had a grievance outside the limits of their home, Isidore thought, they came and dealt with it themselves.

With that thought in his mind, he gathered himself and kept running, shifting Edgar onto his back for ease of movement; and when he saw a corner he took it, and when he saw a wall he climbed it, and when his breath finally ran out, an hour and a half later, he found himself standing on the roof of a set of chambers at Inner Temple, leaning against a chimney-stack and panting heavily.

The Bankers were nowhere to be seen.

Isidore checked again, and let Edgar down so that he might check as well.

Isidore straightened up. A few silent charnel-bats fluttered by overhead.

“They should have – chased us to – the end of the earth,” he said. “If they knew we had – broken in like that.” He paused for several more deep breaths. “The Bankers would never let us get away with it,” he said in the end. “They would have caught us...”

Edgar shook his head.

“I don't know,” he said. “Maybe they were impressed.”

It was an odd thought, and it fell clear and cold into the depths of Isidore's mind like a rare jewel.
“Maybe,” he agreed. He walked over to the roof and looked down into the Inner Temple Gardens. “I don't know,” he said. “But for now, we have another destination.”

“We're doing that tonight as well?” asked Edgar, surprised.

“We do it all tonight,” said Isidore. “We keep that soul for as short a time as possible.” He probed at the furry thing latched onto his arm and winced as it tightened its grip. “And we find a way to get this bloody thing off me,” he added aggrievedly. “But first – business.” He swung himself off the edge of the roof and down onto the drainpipe. “Come on, Edgar,” he said, climbing down. “We have an appointment at Buckingham Palace – and I'm sure you'll agree that that isn't the sort of appointment one turns down...”

I must say, I think this is the first time I've read something by you, and I'm really impressed. However, I would have enjoyed a little more backstory on this. Like the genre, what makes it different from today's world, what species the main characters were (cat people?), stuff like that. I was very confused in the beginning because I was deciphering what actually existed in this world. Without further ado, let us begin.

Quote:

(It might have been called foolhardy to attempt to enter the Bank straight away, without more preparation, more refinement of the plan, more casing of the joint. Isidore did not care: he was full of the confidence of youth, and besides, how could one case the Bank of Asphodel any more than he already had done? He could not have done so without actually breaking into it, at which point he might as well just have gone ahead with the finished plan. Besides, time was of the essence: every day that the erstwhile Queen's soul resided in the Bank's vaults, its masters came a little closer to leaving London, and taking the better part of its wealth with them.)

I've never been a huge supporter of parenthesis in stories, but they do make sense in some occasions. However, I must say that an entire paragraph might be excessive. There were a couple other paragraphs wrapped by parenthesis, but I didn't quote them because it's more of a style critique than anything else. And that's up to you to do something about it.

Quote:

He blinked the sweat from his eyes and cleared his head with practised ease, as if he were about to change personality; Isidore Swan was not a brave man by nature – in fact, he possessed a remarkable aptitude for slithering away out of windows or half-open doors when real trouble raised its head – but he valued the appearance of bravery as much as he valued the appearance of expertise, or the appearance of wealth. Appearances were all that other people could see of you, after all; what was on the inside wasn't worth a damn.

I really enjoyed this paragraph. I enjoyed all of it, but this paragraph really stood out. It was written well and I got to learn more about Isodore's mind. I like the way you described it instead of just saying "Isodore was a shallow person".

Quote:

It was excruciatingly hot here, too, but after the vault it felt like stepping into a cool breeze.

I don't think that first comma belongs there. The second one does, but the first one doesn't need to be there as "too" is reliant on the first half of the sentence.

The only critique I have of the passage as a whole is that I think you lay the metaphors on a little thick in the beginning. More specifically, the dragon and the omni-bus. The dragon one was more prominent and the reason I say that it was too much was because by the end of the metaphor, I was almost convinced the building itself was a dragon. What confused me about the omnibus was this:

The omnibus I'm not really concerned about, but other readers might find it just a tad too thick. I like your metaphors. I think they're very accurate and add a lot to the story, but I feel like you drag them out for too long a couple times. More of a personal preference, but thought I would point it out all the same.

As stated before, I would have liked a little more backstory before I started reading, but no matter. This was really good. Your showing rather than telling, which is always a great sign. The description paints the scene very well and I wanted to know more. Not because I was confused, but rather because I'm genuinely curious about this world you created.

Overall, a really good passage. It's polished, it flows well, and I didn't get lost. If this were a chapter to a story or something, I would probably read a lot more if I had the time. Nice job, this is really good.

I have an unfinished story I'd like to put on here, partly to see how more people like it, partly to motivate myself to continue it. I've got enough of it done that I could probably post a chapter a week for a few months. Anyway, it might sound a bit generic, but means I've had my screen name for a long time, I've always wanted to write a story to flesh out the name. Here's the first chapter:

The sun's glow upon the leaves of the forest mixed well with the cool autumn breeze flowing between the trees. The colors were a vibrant mixture of reds, greens, oranges, and yellows among the branches of the tall brown oaks, and even the shades seemed to provide their own palette of colors to the mix. A lone worker within the shade was chopping away wood from a tree he had downed near a week past.
He was a Velociraptor, unlike the humans that lived around the forest, his dark green scales and the long jagged black stripe down his back gave a sense of camouflage, but it was counteracted by the brown of his cloth shirt and the leather strap on his waist that held his dagger. He swung the woodsman's ax, splitting the wood it hit into two halves. He put the two halves onto a pile of his other gatherings for the day, and as he gazed up at the sun between the leaves, decided to head home with is workload. He shouldered his ax, picked up a handle of the barrow, and wheeled it on to his forest home.
When he pulled his collection next to the side of his house, he looked over the clearing on that side, some of which he had cleared himself, and smirked. He had much of the clearing for practicing combat, using combat dummies he made out of some of the extra wood he harvested. He also had a large boulder with a flat top that he would lay on to bask in the sun. He looked back up at the sun through the oval shape sky above the clearing, and decided against basking at the time. He unloaded the barrow, placing the wood neatly piled next to his house. He put the ax leaning against the pile with the blade up off the ground to help prevent rust and bug juices. He went inside to grab his wooden practice sword and practiced his attacks, defenses, and stances until his scaly skin glistened with sweat. He looked back up the sun and decided to use the rest of the time before it hid behind the trees to bask before heading into the house to sleep for the night.

* * *

Cloaked figures huddled around a campfire that night. Several had missing teeth, most looked as though this was not their first night sleeping on dirt and grass. They had a rabbit skewered over the fire, roasting, though it was hard to tell it was a rabbit anymore. Their clothes were as dark as their attitudes towards each other except one among them. That one had an air of authority about him, however dark his means and looks was. One of the others, with two gaps on his upper teeth and one in the middle of his lower, looked up to the man while his hand strayed toward yanking the last leg off of the rabbit.
“So, your plan to take out the beastly fella' what live in this forest, what it be?” he said before he began to chew on the rabbit leg.
“What business is it of yours, it ain't your plan, now is it, Snapjaw?” replied one of the others of their gang, this one with gaps on both sides of his mouth.
“Shush, Monger, I was asking Bismarq, mean he's the boss, not you.” Snapjaw replied before taking another bite out of the rabbit leg.
“Why I oughta...” Monger said, drawing the dagger from his belt. Within a matter of seconds, all of the cloaked figures had stood up, daggers drawn and threatening each other. All except Bismarq. He sat for a moment, watching his ragtag bunch of thieves threaten each other like a bunch of children.
“Sit down, all o' ya,” he said in a commanding tone. The cloaked figures considered him for a moment before complying, daggers back on their belts. When Bismarq was satisfied with the result, he continued, “Now, as for my plan for the reptilian bastard, I plan to skewer his heart with me dagger, much like that rabbit be skewered over the fire. Then I plan to gut him, just to see what be inside. And, when all that be said and done, I plan to let him rot where he lay. These forests be better without the likes o' him, especially for us bandits. We could use that little clearing o' his to get proper training for louts like you, as a command post for attacking that human town o' Hemlaq. I even plan to make his house me own when I've killed him. Any o' ya argue with the plan, I'll kill yer too, understood.” The others hastily made their agreements with Bismarq's plan, after which he added, “Now rest up, ya lazy slobs. We attack on the morrow.” Every cloaked figure around the fire began to laugh.

While elsewhere,"Lord Sesshomaru!" Jaken called out from Sesshomaru's two headed trusty beast, Ah-Un,"Lord Sesshomaru! Where are you!?" He looked towards the ground below as he continued calling out,"Please answer! Please answer me!"

A thought then struck him,"Is it possible that Lord Sesshomaru was cut down in battle when he went to fight Inuyasha? Speaking of cut down, why should I care if he was cut down or not! He used me as a guinea pig in his sword experiment! And hit me with the Tenseiga to see if it would cut me though or not! He said he was testing the sword, but I'm sure he was just teasing me!"

Jaken pulled on Ah-Un's reins and as he started heading down into a field of flowers he said,"He wouldn't of struck me if there was any doubt that I would be revived." Ah-Un, then landed onto the ground. Jaken got off and the beast laid down to take a nap. Jaken picked a daisy and sit next to Ah-Un starting to pick the petals as he mumbled out loud,"He was testing...he was teasing...he was testing...he was teasing...he was testing...he was teasing." Then suddenly he was down to only one petal and gulped in fear,"He was testing...HE WAS TESTING!"

Jaken then got angry as he jumped up onto Ah-Un's back yelling,"Lord Sesshomaru, would you have really risked my life to test your sword! You ungrateful dog!" Just then a rock came flying up, hitting Jaken in the back of the head, making him fall off, of Ah-Un's back. Jaken yelled as he fell off, waking up Ah-Un who looked around in wonder, of what just happened.

Jaken then jumped up, back onto Ah-Un, getting onto the beast's head, spotting Sesshomaru walking up. He guessed it was him, who threw the rock just now,"Lord Sesshomaru, before I continue in your service, were you actually testing your sword on me!?"

Sesshomaru sighed in respond,"I expected a warm welcome from you, Jaken. Not an interrogation."

Jaken turned pale at that as he laughed a bit,"Oh right! I'm glad you're well. I thought you might be dead."

Sesshomaru picked up another rock throwing it at Jaken again, once again hitting the poor toad demon, in the head making him once again fall off of Ah-Un. Sesshomaru was about to go over and kick Jaken, when a familiar scent assaulted his nose,'Blood, and the smell of wolves,' he thought to himself. He then gasped,"I recognize this blood."

Jaken got up,"Y...You do!" Sesshomaru turned as he started walking away from Jaken,"Milord! Wait for me!" He yelled following after Sesshomaru's retreating form, leaving Ah-Un there, where the beast just fell back to sleep. The two came upon, Rin laying down on the ground, where she was dead,"Uh oh! She's a goner that's for sure. She must of been attacked by wolves." Jaken walked up to Rin, looking her over,"Look at the teeth marks. Do you recognize this pathetic human?"

Sesshomaru didn't answer Jaken, just stood there as a flash of Rin smiling and giggling at him with one tooth missing, entered his mind. Just then he felt Tenseiga pulsing at his side. All too curious, Sesshomaru pulled it out,"Sire, what are you doing!?" Jaken gasped.

Sesshomaru, ignored Jaken as he held out the Tenseiga and started mumbling to himself out loud,"Interesting," he said, as some weird underworld beasts appeared around Rin's body. They were wrapping chains around her body, getting ready to drag her away to the afterlife,"I can see them. They are from the underworld."

"Uh..you can?" Jaken questioned, confused by what Sesshomaru was saying. He looked and didn't see anything at all.

Suddenly Sesshomaru mumbled,"I'll do another test. I'll use the Tenseiga."

Jaken gasped,"Another test! What are you doing sire? What are you doing!" He watched as Sesshomaru swung his sword down onto Rin's dead form, killing the creatures from the underworld.

Sesshomaru then leaned down, as he pulled Rin into his one arm, and waited to see what would happen next. Both him and Jaken gasped in shock, as Rin moaned and opened her eyes,"Y..You saved me!" The girl gasped, actually talking, tears in her eyes.

'She's spoken!' Sesshomaru gasped in his head.

Jaken was shocked,"She's come back to life!" As he said that, Rin wiggled free out of Sesshomaru's arm. Her injuries she had gotten before she died was also all healed up. It was like she'd never gotten a single scratch on her. She grasped her doll in her hand by its arm as she stood there,"Lord Sesshomaru, you resurrected this human girl, with the power of the Tenseiga?"

"Rin," said the girl, gripping her doll, in her hand,"I have an older sister, Sakura who's at the next town. Could..you..could you take me to her?" She gripped her doll, as she gave off a hopeful look. Sesshomaru sighed as he just nodded, his head, agreeing to Rin's request. He then got up and started walking away.

"Lord Sesshomaru?" Jaken questioned,"Lord Sesshomaru, saving a human child is surprising enough. But more importantly, didn't Lord Sesshomaru just say he was going to test the power of Tenseiga once again? T..T...That means I was cut down with no guarantee for survival! And to think, I devoted myself to you all these years!"

As Jaken started mumbling wondering how Sesshomaru could do that to him, Rin gripping her doll by one arm, ran ahead of him, following after Sesshomaru, catching up to him and walking beside him,"I just don't understand it!" Jaken kept sobbing. Then he noticed he was being left behind again,"Wait Lord Sesshomaru, I'm coming!" Jaken gasped following after Rin and Sesshomaru.

'Tenseiga, you compelled me to save a human life today,' Sesshomaru thought, as he looked down at Rin, walking beside him. She grinned up at him giggling again. The tooth that had been missing before was back in her mouth,'And now I must take her to her sister. It's too dangerous to leave her here. Why I'm even bothering, I don't know. But I will find out.' The group of three walked on as Sesshomaru thought this.

This little bit is an unused portion of my pet project, Long Twilight Struggle: Heirs of the First Revolution. (You might be a history nerd if you get where the title comes from.) I decided to share it here because what else am I going to do with it?

It's the beginning of chapter five, though. I was completely stuck on how to begin this chapter, and this was my last attempt before I figured out the way that worked. This one was a little too much dialogue, and it worked better when I cut down on the amount of characters to start with.

Spoiler:

In his memories, Iori could never remember a time that he ever told a lie. They just weren't something that passed his lips, and any that he thought of were squashed down in his mind by his grandfather's words. Lies were painful, hurt people that Iori cared about and never wanted to see sad. And his grandfather would be greatly disappointed if he found out that Iori told a lie or accepted a blatant one told to his face.

Which was why Iori was still staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, hours past his bedtime. Miyako's story about the Digimon was too unreal to be true, but Iori had seen the creatures himself. He couldn't deny their existence. To do so would be to tell a lie.

Why his best friend told him to keep this secret, Iori didn't know. He figured there was nothing he could do about it to help him further understand the situation.

Except ask Miyako why he needed to lie.

Turning over in his bed, he went through the relaxation techniques that his grandfather taught him and went to sleep.

– –

“You know we can't get inside, right?” Hikari asked.

Daisuke shook the gates leading to the school yard. The lock on the gate rattled, calling the boy's attention to it. He studied it for a few seconds, as if he had lock-picking skills or a way to shatter the metal. Chibimon, perched on the boy's head, squeaked out various suggestions of differing degrees of possible success.

The rest of the Chosen leaned against the school's wall that surrounded the yard. With their Digimon in their arms or resting against their legs, the children tried to seem casual on the street. They didn't want to call attention to themselves. Miyako already mentioned that they looked suspicious trying to break into school on a Sunday.

“That makes it even better! No one would think we'd do this!” Daisuke exclaimed. He tugged on the lock. It still wouldn't budge. “Do you think we could climb the wall?”

Hikari crossed her arms, smiled at her friend, and shook her head. “I wonder if there's a different way to get to the DigiWorld. The Kaiser can get in, and I don't think he goes to our school.”

“So maybe we don't need to use the school's computer?” Takeru asked.

“Maybe not.” Miyako tapped her chin. “Koushiro and I were talking about things, and he noticed that our new Digivices can open the portal when the old ones couldn't.”

“Is that what the problem was?”

“He thinks so. The rest of you couldn't get to the DigiWorld, but once Daisuke got his Digivice or I did, we could get to the DigiWorld. He thinks that we can open the portal on any computer, that it doesn't matter if it's the school one or not.”

“Doesn't hurt to try it.” Takeru smiled at Miyako, and she smiled back at him.

Hikari asked, “Whose computer do we try it on?”

“My dad home watching television, and my sister's home since she can't get a date or any friends,” Daisuke answered with a grin.

Miyako rolled her eyes. “Actually, Jun's heading out with my sisters. But my brother's home today because my parents want him to do his homework.”

“Taichi's out at soccer practice, and my mother's home cooking.” Hikari frowned.

“I think we can go to my apartment. My mother's out on a new story for the paper. She won't be home for a while,” Takeru said.

The rest of the Chosen nodded at each other. They gathered their Digimon in their arms and started walking down the street back to Takeru and Miyako's apartment building. As they turned to enter the building, they ran across Iori. The boy stepped off the elevator. He stopped when he saw the Chosen, his eyes searching over the group until they landed on Miyako. He strode over towards them.

“Is that the kid from the other day?” Daisuke asked.

Miyako nodded. “That's Iori. I already explained the Digimon to him,” she whispered. Louder, she greeted Iori with a smile.

“Hello, Miyako. Hello, everyone.” Iori bowed to the others. “Miyako, do you mind if I ask you a question? Why do I have to lie to my family about the...creatures?” The boy gestured to the Digimon in the Chosen's arms.

She floundered for an answer. Takeru stepped in front of her. “Iori, why don't you come with us to my apartment? We'll tell you everything there.”

__________________

Now nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody speaks my name
I'm just another blister in the mouth of shame
A bug in Ender's Game

Rain drops crash against on your face. You see a flash of light in the sky followed by a cra-boom. The sound of the natural drum startles you into getting up. “Gwrad Dawm!” You head towards the epicenter of sound to find a CHAMPION defeated and their pokemon murdered. You watch as the dragonite launch a second thunder attack electrocuting the CHAMPION. Tears run down your face. “YOU BASTARD! BASTARD! BASTARD! BASTARD! BASTARD!” A male in a mask turns his head and looks at you. “You don’t know the injustice of this world. Kill [him/her]” he directs one of his two friends. You battle; you lose. Before you are punched to death an Arcanine shows up and teleports you away.

I'm in middle of looking for a new hobby. I'm trying to stop drifting through life (and start swimming). Writing might be my next hobby; it was a previous hobby when I used to rp. Please rate my draft and give pointers if you can.

I would give this sentence another read. I think you tried to combine two phrases here, and it sounds awkward. I would get rid of "on", to make the sentence flow a bit better.

One thing I noticed is that you're telling, not showing. Despite the second person viewpoint, I don't feel very immersed in the scene. The only thing I know is that there's a thunderstorm going on, and that the champion was murdered. Right now, you're telling us this information. Since I work best with examples, here's what I mean:

Quote:

You head towards the epicenter of sound to find a CHAMPION defeated and their pokemon murdered.

You're telling us that the champion has been defeated. Don't tell us, show us. This is arguably the hardest thing about writing, but I'll try my best to give an introduction.

Try asking the six basic question, who, what, when, where, why, and how? Taking the time to answer these six question for each scene can really help getting a picture of what's happening in your mind. And when there's a picture in your mind, it can be transferred into words. Who murdered the pokemon? What were they doing in order for the pokemon to be murdered? When did this take place? Where are they? Why is everyone getting murdered around here? How are they being killed off? Questions like these really help. I'm not the best at showing, but I'll try to provide an example of what I'm talking about.

Quote:

You find yourself running towards the source of the thunder, your heart beating in your throat. As you approach the scene, you drop to your knees. The champion lay ahead of you, surrounded by his pokemon. Blood from the pokemon mixed with the rain as it ran down their faces, staining the earth.

"Dragonite, use Thunder!" A man calls above the howling storm.

Tears run down your face as the attack is launched towards the champion. Electricity envelopes the tortured figure, as the champion screams out in pain. The screams rip into your ears and fill your head. You cover your ears and lay down on the ground, unable to take any more. Eventually, the screams stop, and you look up. The body of the champion now lay lifeless on the ground, joining his pokemon in his eternal silence.

So, something along the lines of that. It's your job as the writer to immerse your reader into the scene. It's nearly impossible to do that when you're telling, so you have to show.

Hopefully I helped a little bit. I would also recommend letting your writing sit for at least a day, and then reading through it again. It will help a lot with picking up simple errors, and there were a couple more that I didn't point out. Overall, this isn't that bad. There's a lot to be improved on, but the story is there. I'm curious on why you chose second person for this though. It's a tricky viewpoint that can be very effective if used correctly, but can otherwise ruin a story. Anyway, good luck with future writing endeavors and I hope I helped!

@Astinus
I'm sorry, but it looks pretty good to me. I don't really have much feedback. D:

Okay so I may be used to people reviewing and such on fanfiction.net. A few not so helpful, while a lot are really good and honest. And some just flat out don't read past the first chapters and give the story a shot. I will warn ahead of time, that I am one of those rare I guess lol. Writers whose writing gets better and better, as I make more and more chapters X D I will say though, despite reviewers being harsh or not very helpful with their reviews and constantly saying, I should quite my writing thats annoying. They will constantly say that my plot and ideas are great lol. So...yeah feed backs are very wonky over there.

Any way I have attempted to write a Pokemon fanfic back when I was 16 and had posted on Serebii.net...only for a lot of people giving me a horrible time and such about my writing, and how I was copying the show and everything and yadda, yadda instantly saying my story is horrible without even reading the next chapter or so on. Along with telling me that i shouldn't bother writing journey fics, because they are always the same. Let's be honest here...WHAT first chapter wouldn't start the same, with a new trainer getting their starter Pokemon from Professor whoever. While then they head on out and have a somewhat hard time on their first time out of the town.

But yeah enough of that, and that I have rebooted the stories. into a little bit more personal story, and well. I am planning of posting it up here. But I have already finished Chapter 1 and well...I wouldn't mind if you guys can take a look at it. I have used Microsoft words and such, so please take in mind that this program isn't the best. When deciphering past, present and future tense...as that seems to be my worst enemy when writing. My grammar...I can't tell cause to me it looks fine, but then I get people who are from collage or uni telling me otherwise and saying my first language of english is horrible. So yeah...I just hope this community isn't as bad as Serebii... So without further adieu here's chapter one. Also to take note, this is not copying the anime with the whole Pikachu thing...so please don't think that way okay lol XD I grew up with Yellow version as a kid, before my brother took my Red version ^^; OH real quick, this chapter has been done last week.

Spoiler:

Prologue too Robert and Pikachu adventures

Chapter 1: They meet

Running is all he could remember doing ever since being in the forest. Never knowing where the grassy ground or mossy trees will lead him, never knowing what Pokemon or dangers he is about to get into. All he knew was that, he is weak, confused and tired.

This Pokemon is called Pikachu, the electric mouse Pokemon. It gathers and releases electrical charges from its red cheeks patches. It uses it’s lightning shape tail high into the air, to alert from any danger ahead as well get struck by lightning in a storm.

“Pii…Pii…” the young Pikachu panted out after hopping over a growing root from a tree. After doing so it leaned his back against it, and began gathering his thoughts and controlling his breathing. Trying to calm down from all the running it had to go through. “Pikachu, piii!” he growled and yelled out!

Slamming his left paw against the wooden bark, and clenching his amber eyes tightly “why…why leave me behind!? I could’ve grow stronger…I can be a strong Pokemon!” Pikachu thought to himself. Grinding his teeth left and right, trying to wonder why he was abandon? He understood that he wasn’t strong against Ground type Pokemon, or Grass types…he can easily grow and learn some moves to deal with them?

But no ‘he’ abandoned him before even giving Pikachu a chance, nor giving him a second glance after their huge battle…that was up against an Onix. “That Charmander would not have won, if it wasn’t for my growl attack!” Pikachu grumbled out and lower his ears and sighed out. It was no use too get all upset about it anymore, what happened is beyond Pikachu’s control.

Pikachu looked up towards the sky, seeing couple of branches and leafs blocking the view of the clear morning skies, as well the sunlight breaming and shimmering through viridian forest. Forming some ovals or revealing some path ways for the young mouse Pokemon to take.

“Pikachu…” he mumbled and then rested both paws against his stomach. Hearing it growl and feeling hungry himself, he figured to go and find some food to satisfy his hunger.

Though since Pikachu traveled with ‘him’ a couple of days ago? As well enjoying the wonders of some human like food for the first time? The little electric mouse has become, somewhat of a picky eater…he will some time still eat random apples that are in trees and some berries. He can definitely say that human food, is quite fulfilling too the stomach! Much so than berries and apples!

“What are the chances of me running into another trainer, in these forests?” He growled out and then groaned with a low pika. Hearing his stomach growling out in protest, and figure that he can always venture into the nearby city…Viridian he recalls ‘him’ talking about?

But by the time he even reaches too Viridian what it called? Half a day will be passed, and surely the young electric mouse will be starving by the time he even gets too the entry gate! Hearing his stomach growling out once more and wanting human food badly... Pikachu figure the heck with it and start running towards the southern part of Viridian forest.

Making sure to avoid any of the wild Beedrill or Weedles that inhabit the forest, although since traveling with that one human and learning that fighting other Pokemon? Can make a trained Pokemon, become stronger. So Pikachu figured to battle some of the wild Pidgey, Kakuna and Metapod. Since he will be able to get strong and learn new moves, if he were to battle some of the wild Pokemon!

With a smirk and a small smile, Pikachu has formulated a plan of what he will do. Which he will battle any of the wild Pokemon he will run into on his way to Viridian city! But he will have to make sure, too conserve some energy though. He doesn’t want to pass out by battling too many of them…that’s a mistake he will never make and had learned after watching Charmander. Pushing himself really hard to get training done, will end you up tired and weak for the rest of the day.

“One thing for sure I will never again travel or get capture by a human again!” Pikachu thought to himself with a hard glare. Making an oath from here on out, that he will never, EVER be partnered up with a human trainer in his life. While making sure that they will never get the chance, of throwing that stupid contraption looking ball of theirs again!

With that final thought and dashing through couple of bushes, scaring off a couple of Caterpies and Butterfree. Pikachu is making some great time and distance towards viridian city as the little mouse, is determine to get some food into his stomach as well as get some battles in during his trip.

Little does the little mouse Pokemon knows? Is that his trip to Viridian city, is going to lead him too somebody very important and become close to him.

XXX

Pikachu wasn’t sure how long it took him, or how many fights he went through. All he could do was stand there at the edge of town, panting, breathing and smiling down at the city from the hill top he is on. Afternoon sun was high into the blue clear skies, shinning and beaming warm air down below.

Glistening and shining through the nearby lake Pikachu is standing next to, having a few Poliwags and Magikarp to jump out and back into the water. Rippling the tired Pikachu’s reflection, as the little mouse was a bit bruised up from head to toe…over doing it a bit with some of the Pokemon he fought, especially against Pidgey and Rattata.

Especially the Rattata, much they are weak Pokemon. They do hit hard against a Pokemon like him, which he can still feel some of the bumps on his body. From their tackle attacks landing on him, as well a few scratches from Pidgey beaks hitting his side and stomach area.

After calming and getting his breathing back to normal. The little mouse groaned from hearing his stomach growling, making his grimace and chuckle lightly “no worries tummy…you will get food soon. I just have to be careful of not getting caught!” he said excitedly and darted off down the hill and towards the town. Hopefully finding the right place and spot, to get some food into his stomach…without running into any Trainers…

Xxx

Upon arriving at the very edge of the town, Pikachu quickly hide himself towards a nearby alley way. Between two buildings, while sticking his head out once in a while. Twitching his ears to hear out anyone, who might’ve spotted him or not?

Seeing that he was in the clear and no one saw him yet? He ran around the building corner and darted underneath couple of benches, as well staying low to the ground. Making sure the tip of his tail is mere inches, above the ground. Darting his amber eyes left and right, as he reaches the end of the bench.

Quickly flinching and staying still on the ground, hearing a couple of female humans. Giggling and laughing as they sat down on the bench. Making some small talk he wasn’t understanding, or even wanted to know. He then rolled his eyes a bit and sighed, hearing how they were talking about how strong.

A trainer with a Charmander was, along with a Pidgey and a Mankey. Making the little mouse growl irritably to himself knowing exactly who trainer they were talking about. As the boy told Pikachu of how, he can’t wait and see what Pikachu can do, as well telling the little mouse. Of how he trained with other Trainers here in viridian city, and defeated them.

The bruised and tired mouse Pokemon, after making sure the path was clear and none of the very tall humans were looking. The electric mouse darted towards what look like some construction tools, and wooden planks. Letting out small pants of his name, as he is zigzagging through some of the wooden planks or traffic cones that came his way…

All the while jumping in and out some of the open hole like pipes that were being lifted by what seems like a hook. Scaring the little mouse as well causing him, too grunt and yelped out from losing his footing, as well rolling left and right in the pipe.

Making his way towards the other end, and paling at how high he was at from the ground. Feeling the wind blowing against his yellow fur, as the little mouse gulped and closed his eyes. He then gave a loud pika and jumped out from the pipe.

Falling hard and fast from the air, and right into a cart filled with bags of flour! Causing the couple who was pushing the cart, to let out a ‘hey’ and then gasp out when a Pokemon head. Popped out and shook their heads left and right.

To clear away the flower that covered his body, as Pikachu then widen his eyes in fright and immediately hopped out of the cart. When the male got a bit angry and tried to grab Pikachu, only to miss and having the shopping cart go rolling and moving downhill right into the lake, with the female human running after him.

Making Pikachu who is covered in flower to laugh at the scene while running, he then faced forward only to yelp and grunt out in pain. Right when he crashed into a moving cart that had some flowerpots on it. Only to suddenly shatter and break when Pikachu, ran through them and causing the little mouse rolling to a stop.

Panting and breathing heavily, from all the pain he is feeling from his battles earlier. Now this and crashing into those flowerpots, really did some damage on his body. Lying on the ground and breathing heavily, he opened his amber eyes lightly and through what blurred vision he had. Saw couple of humans gathering around and mumbling to one another…

Probably figuring out what to do with him? Or probably figuring out if they should capture him and such, as the electric mouse growled out threateningly! As he charges up his electricity and fired them out from his thundershock at the humans! Causing them to scream out in fright, as well backed away from Pikachu.

After doing so and using this distraction, Pikachu gotten up and darted away from the gathering humans. Not caring where he ends up now, as the little mouse Pokemon was weaving and bobbing through every human he came across with. Though seeing how there was a little ledge up ahead, as well what looks like little children playing outside in an open field?

He figured to head in that direction, in order to hide away from those humans. Right before falling off from the ledge, Pikachu immediately jumped off from the ledge. Though panic and flailing his limbs around when he didn’t realize that this ledge?

Was actually a very steep hill, causing the Pikachu to start rolling, tumbling and bouncing all over the place. The steep hill, though not painful or rough was leading the electric mouse towards the little playful human children!

Rolling and bouncing down the steep hill, along with now rolling onto his sides. Pikachu was doing everything in his will power, to grab or dig his paws into the grassy ground. Only to feel himself not able to get a good grip on the grass! Facing up the hill, he could see that the buildings and trees were slowly disappearing from the top of the hill.

Pikachu feeling the slight burning sensation as well as descending down the hill. Felt his lower body hit the ground hard and caused him to roll backwards and between the fences. With Pikachu feeling the world becoming all disorienting and dizzy, and then abruptly stopping when he finally rolled onto his stomach. He could not describe the pain he is feeling right now, as he could say it felt like a Charmander weak ember hitting him…

Hissing out and gritting his teeth, the Pikachu slowly gotten up onto his four paws. Hearing what sounded like playful laughter and children running about in front of him, alerting the electric type that he made it too his destination. But is he safe?

Pikachu opened up his right eye slowly, and then blink it a few times. He then blinked both eyes open and let out a small “chuu?” The ground in front of him was definitely different than the dirt like roads, or those sidewalks that his trainer used to walk on. When they reached to Pewter city…only that it looks like the color black, with some weird color markings being drawn onto it?

“What are those things they are holding, and rubbing into the ground?” Pikachu wondered, watching a few children holding what look like color sticks. Happily sticking their tongues out and painting the ground, with said sticks…he isn’t sure what they were drawing? On the account the distance between him and them were very far, so it made it difficult to detail out what they were doing?

He quickly back away when a rubber ball bounced and hit the ground mere inches in front of him. Watching the ball being chased by group of children, who were all laughing and shouting to one another. Saying “pass it here” or “no pass it to me!” it looked quite fun to be honest…though he knows once he steps out into the open?

He will be bombarded and get cornered by the children wanting to probably have him. Hearing his stomach growling out, reminding him how hungry he was, made him groan lightly and lowered his ears. Pikachu then looked left and right, curious if any of these kids had left their bags unattended?

Recalling that his ex-trainer kept what look like food inside those things, and will pull a sandwich or an apple out from the bag. Whenever he will get hungry and right now, Pikachu really needs food badly! After searching out into the playfield, he could not spot a single bag in sight! Nor any of the children sitting down and eating their food.

Making him to tsk and snapped his little fingers out of irritation. Pikachu then crossed his arms and began tapping his right paw impatiently scanning the entire playing field. Hoping that one of these human children will be foolish enough, too leave their bag out in the open.

Looking to his left and being under what appears to be another bench. Pikachu immediately perked his ears upward and smiled, seeing that there was a human child sitting down. With his bag wide open and right where he is sitting from. Too engross of what looks like to be a book of some sorts, while slowly taking a small bite of what appears to be a sandwich!

This sight is making Pikachu drool a bit, as his hunger level has reached its peak…cautiously and carefully Pikachu could, began walking his way towards the blue and black color design bag. Making sure to turn his eyes up at the boy, so that he wasn’t looking over his shoulders or even down at his bag.

After couple more inches to the bag, Pikachu gave one more glance up at the boy. Only to pause and get a good look at him…feeling this weird sensation from him? The feeling of…sadness and what also feels like he is invisible? ‘That’s weird why would this boy feel like he is invisible? He was talking to a female human earlier, so…why feel like that?’ Pikachu thought to himself, but figure to drop it.

“Bah just forget it Pikachu! You are here for the food and the boy is too distracted, to even notice!” Pikachu told himself and jumped inside the boy’s bag. Rummaging and moving about inside of it, surprise how big it was on the inside?

Sniffing and moving things around in the bag, Pikachu smiled and found the scent of food inside what looks like a plastic bag? Not caring if he would be heard or not, the electric type immediately started ripping the plastic off from the sandwich! Succeeding in doing so, Pikachu immediately grabbed it then began chewing and eating the delectable, tasting sandwich. Causing him to hum in delight!

‘So good, tastes amazing! Whoever thought that having cheese in between whatever these called, can taste so great!’ He thought to himself and happily got into a more comfortable position in the bag. With his back resting up against where the front would be, with his lightning like tail resting on the left side of the bag, enjoying the wonders of human food going down his throat and into his stomach!

“Robert your mother is here to pick you up!” shouted what sounded like a Female voice. To this person name Robert. In which Pikachu pause a bit from eating as he listens in, only to then panic and widen his eyes in fear when said “Robert” replied back.

“Okay…just let me get my bag!” The boy called back. This Robert apparently is the owner of this bag! Pikachu tried his best to get out, but knew that once he does…his cover will be blown and could easily be caught by a human around this Robert! Pikachu let out a quiet yelp when he felt the bag being lifted off the ground.

Tossing and fumbling the electric type around inside, as he heard Robert muttering out “Man…this gets heavy every school year…” which caused Pikachu. To rest his paws against the sides of the bag, so he wouldn’t keep fumbling about. All the while having a very angry facial expression on his face, glaring threating towards where the zipper part of the bag was.

‘Oh you did not just call me fat boy! When I get out of this bag, you are so getting a Thundershock!” Pikachu then whined out…when he does get out of the boy’s bag. He will be probably inside his house, and that wouldn’t be good. Especially if said boy’s family is Pokemon trainers and such…making him become a nervous wreck.

‘This can’t be happening, this just can’t be happening! I will not become a Trainers Pokemon or a house pet to one!’ Pikachu growled out to himself. Though started calming himself down, as he figure that once he does get too the boy’s home? While not paying attention to his bag, or wherever he places the bag down at. He can easily get out of the bag, and find his way out of the human’s home!

After all they must have some door or entry way, that they allow their own Pokemon? Too go in and out of the house right? Now just finding the right moment and time, to sneak away from the boy and his parents will be the problem…

But for now Pikachu might as well wait till this Robert person, goes home and leaves his bag unattended. So the electric mouse will be able to get out, and sneak his way through whatever house they go too. Then make a mad dash back towards the wild, without any worries of being caught or being with a Pokemon trainer!

“Did you had fun today Robert?” The female voice muffled out from the bag. Causing Pikachu ears to twitch a bit, listening into the conversation. All the while leans up towards a small opening of the zipper…seeing what looks like a somewhat elderly woman. Walking next to the owner of this bag, who is probably Robert? Showing a very serene and caring smile down too him.

“Yeah I did…” the voice sounded really shy in Pikachu’s ears. As the boy went on and explained how, he and his friends were discussing and talking about Pokemon. Pokemon battles, and what kind of Pokemon they would choose once they start out they’re adventures, after they become licensed Trainers. Causing the little mouse to growl too himself, wanting to bang his head against the bag.

‘No, no, no, no! I had to go into a bag of a soon to be Trainer! I just HAD to do it!’ Pikachu screamed inside of his head and places his paws over his eyes shaking his head left and right.

“Oh really that is really cool Robert, I bet you want to be just like your older brother who is also a Trainer huh?” The elderly woman said too the boy. Making Pikachu to slowly lower his hands, and then look up towards the small opening. Getting a little frustrated, as of course the known younger brother would want to be a trainer…because of being influenced by the older sibling…

“I guess…but more of the lines of like my mother. My brother has nothing to do with my choice of being a trainer.” Robert tried to explained, only to lightly lower his head. Alerting the Pikachu a bit from the way his tone sounded ‘Irritated’ from how his choice, was because of his brother?

“Oh come now Robert, I thought you always look up to your brother? I always see you and him, practice Pokemon battling together with your mother’s Pokemon. As well as even discuss about it with one another!” the elderly woman chuckled out while patting the boys shoulder. Making Robert to just sigh out and kept quiet with his walk with the teacher.

Pikachu who was listening in, on the account has no choice but to listen. Blinked his eyes a bit of why Robert…sounded so upset whenever the old woman will talk about her brother? I mean…from the sounds of it, this Robert and his brother seems to get along quite well?

A couple of minutes have gone by, and Pikachu could hear what sounded like another woman. Is coming into the scene, calling out Robert’s name from afar with the boy picking up his pace and jog his way down the hall. Right up next to probably Pikachu could make out, is the mother?

Whose hair looks like to be tied into a pony tail reaching down to the back of her neck. With the hair color being blue, which surprise Pikachu? Considering he never really seen any humans so far, with blue hair before. Wearing a normal black long sleeve shirt from what Pikachu could make out from the bag.

XXX

After conversing and speaking with the elderly woman a few more minutes, the boy and mother head on out from the school building. Then to a strange looking…thing, Pikachu wasn’t sure what to call it but he will go with ‘car’ for now. Considering that’s what the mother told Robert, to enter.

“Pika!” grunted out Pikachu, who clench his eyes shut and then slapped his paws too his mouth. From letting out his name when the bag, got gently tossed into the car…giving Pikachu a good look of Robert now.

His hair color was same to his mother, only that it was really flat and doesn’t over shadow his facial features or reaching down too his shoulders. Wearing what seems to be a small blue long sleeve shirt, with grey sweat pants. His eye coloring being emerald green, that Pikachu couldn’t help but see…somewhat wanting to be recognize? But from who though?

The boy though is making Pikachu panic a bit, considering when he let out that small Pika. It made Robert to quickly stand up straight and shifting his eyes left and right a bit. Wondering where that noise had come from, as the boy began tilting and twisting his body left and right.

He even then looked under the car, curious if a Pokemon had snuck underneath it or not? Letting out the breath Pikachu was holding in, had calmed down seeing that Robert, didn’t further investigate where the noise came from as he entered the car as well his mother. Who from the distance looks a bit annoyed from something, she talked with the teacher about and started up the engines of the car.

While Pikachu, unaware from the two is silently berating himself for trapping himself in this bag and dooming his freedom for good! As now he is being taken straight towards a town, called Pallet town.

“Robert how was your day?” the mother asked looking over at the boy, from the rearview mirror of the car, seeing that Robert is staring out of the cars window. Probably watching some of the people, Pokemon and probably trainers going and leaving whenever they pass one...Watching him with concern in her eyes, as well as sighing out quietly. Having a good idea he gotten compared, to his brother a lot again today.

“School was fine we didn’t do a lot today. On the account the Pokemon battle test, gotten canceled from somebody. Miss fired a Pokemon attack and caused the sprinklers to go off.” Robert explained, with a light chuckle. Earning a smile from his mom, as they were now entering route 1 that will bring them too Pallet town.

This even made Pikachu to snicker too himself, as he had to admit. Picturing all of the humans and soon to be trainers, getting soaked and drenched in water? Along with whatever Pokemon they were using, would be a hilarious sight to be seen!

“OH I heard that Professor Oak had showed up in your class? To teach the students more about Pokemon, how was it dear? I bet it was really exciting to see the professor from our village huh!” The mother asked, with a bright smile towards her son. Watching the way he chuckled lightly and nodded his head.

“Yeah it was pretty cool seeing him in the class. He told us a lot about how Pokemon behaves in the wild, about type match ups and other things.” Robert announced giving his mom a knowing smile, as well bashfully rubbing the back of his head.

“He even brought some of the starter Pokemon to class, too show us what Pokemon we get to choose!” He exclaimed, making Pikachu in the bag to roll his eyes and shake his head in annoyance. Much as those starters Pokemon are great and all…they can be quite cocky with beginner trainers.

He should know that Charmander he used to work with? Is prime example of having too much pride. Okay granted Pikachu himself is very prideful in his strength too, but he probably wouldn’t go around boasting about it.

His ears then perked up when Robert then told his mother, about how he asked Professor Oak in privet. About what kind of Pokemon starter, he would suggest him choosing? In which the tone of his voice, after his mother asked him which Pokemon he suggested…was one of irritation and annoyance, watching Robert letting out frustrated sigh and toss his arms up and down.

“He suggested that I should go with a Charmander. On the account of how most of our family besides you mom, had started with Fire types.” He said with a very rough tone, crossing his arms and looking out of the window. “All the while statin that he always sees me, hanging out with Danny’s Charmander…before he went and left on his journey…”

In which the mother shook her head and finish the rest of his sentence for him, “Because you being the younger brother and looking up too Danny. The assumption will be that you would, probably want to start out with a Charmander. Do I know the feeling Robert, before having you two my family. Would always start out with a Bulbasaur, on the account how very creative they can be with their moves. As well being very defensive…that I got really annoyed and chose Squirtle!” she exclaimed with a giggle, as well earning Robert to chuckle as the two were enjoying each other company during their ride too Pallet town.

Even Pikachu who gotten himself comfortable in the bag and slowly falling asleep. Is enjoying the mother and son bonding they were sharing, as well their discussion about how. They would choose the opposite starter Pokemon from what, their siblings had chosen. Even though Pikachu wanted to stay up and keep awake? Is slowly feeling sleep consuming him as the little mouse Pokemon tries everything to stay awake.

Knowing that if he were to fall asleep? He will miss his chance of escaping from these two. The conversation kept going on between the two. Making it difficult to understand what was being said, considering Pikachu’s eyes were slowly closing themselves. Hearing one last thing from the boy, next to him asking something about “Pikachu” Pokemon? Only for the electric mouse to not being able to hear the rest of their conversation from there, as sleep finally won over the tired Pikachu.

XXX

“Pika!?” exclaimed Pikachu as he shook himself awake, and saw that everything is pitch black and dark. Even more so inside the bag, curiously looking left and right? Trying to figure out where he is, or what time it is? As his mind finally caught up too him, and groaned out groggily.

“Right…I snuck into that boy name Robert’s bag in order to get some food. Then got carried too his mother’s car I think and must’ve fallen asleep?” He told himself, while yawning lightly and stretching his paws up into the air. Blaming himself for getting tired all of the sudden and because of sleeping…he probably missed his chance of escaping…

He saw that the bag zipper is still half way open, and figured to get out of here right away. Before Robert or his mother spots him, and decides to capture him…or make him become a Pet. Fumbling much he could with the zipper, and somehow succeeded in opening up the rest of the bag. Only to let out a low grunt as the bag toppled forward and spilled all the contents out of it.

Along with Pikachu who slide forward a bit, on the blue carpeted floor. “Pikachu…” he muttered quietly. Pikachu then stood up on all four of his paws, feeling something very soft and comfortable underneath them. Making him sigh happily and wiggling his small toes against, this strange flooring. “Chaaaaa” he said in bliss, only to quickly snap his eyes open and quickly shook his head.

“Get it together Pikachu! You got to get out of here!” Pikachu told himself, as he stood up onto his two feet. Sniffing and wagging his tail high up into the air, looking for anything that might be dangerous for him to touch? Since the scent of the room had no danger to it, or seeing anything that might hurt the little mouse Pokemon?

He decided to get a good look of the room, letting out a low “pikaaa…” as he walks around the center of the room a bit. Seeing different decorations tools and objects he never seen before. The wall paintings had the colorization and detail of that being outside in an open field. With small markings of what would be wild Pokemon, flying through the air or running through the grassy plain.

Pikachu continued with his little exploration of the room, as his tail will wag a bit and his ears wiggle up and down. Seeing a lot of things that definitely made this person stand out, than most others? ‘This must be that Robert boy room? He wasn’t kidding when he said, he is looking forward to being a trainer?’ Pikachu thought to himself.

Posters were hanging up on the walls, with what look like two Pokemon facing each other. With weird symbols and letters written on it that reads “Pokemon League”. While some collectables and books were laid about on top of what looks like a desk, which no doubt too Pikachu mind. Has information about how to be a trainer, or learning about other Pokemon.

The room was pretty simple for somebody being nine years old? But what stood out the most, were small color looking drawings on paper. Or doodle’s of a two boy’s on each side, with bad integration of what seems to be a Pokemon battle?

With the smaller boy winning and having written words of “Winner”, making Pikachu wonder…if this Robert someday wished to beat somebody in a Pokemon battle? The electric mouse wasn’t sure what to make of it, but turning his head over towards the small open door way of the room. Had his mind wander if Robert wanted to win against his brother??

From the sounds of things and what was being said in the car, between Robert and his mom? Sounded like a lot of people, always seems to either compare Robert with his older brother…or relate him too said sibling a lot in school?

Pikachu just sighs out and shrugs his arms “Not your concern Pikachu, so who cares if Humans compare each other with another…as long it doesn’t involve you, then you shouldn’t get caught into it.” Pikachu said to himself, not really caring if Robert is compared to his brother or not?

He doesn’t know how the human mind works anyway, all he knows now. Is that he needed to get out of here and fast! Pikachu crept his way over towards the crack door, and gently pulled it outward. As he then poked his head around it and twitched his ears a bit.

Hearing for any sounds or movements coming from the clean and wooden floorboards, as the Pikachu ears will move straight up and then back down. Hearing what sounded like their footprints a level below him, as this made Pikachu smiled and darted his way over towards hopefully what would look like stairs.

He was correct, as he move down the second floor hallway. He spotted a railing bar with openings underneath him, to get a good look of the living room. Stopping at the very end of the hall, as Pikachu quickly pressed his back against the wall. He peak his head around, to get a better judgment of what appears to be the main living area.

Though the Pikachu gritted his teeth, as he saw down below was Robert. Sitting down on a sofa, leaning against what seems to be an arm rest. Just lazily staring in front of him with boredom, pressing his thumb against something Pikachu wasn’t sure of? At the same time noticing some light coming from a strange box in front of the boy?

‘I think my trainer said something about that? Think they called it a ‘T.V’ another source for humans to gather information or…something like that.’ Pikachu thought while groaning a bit…you ask why? Well right next to Robert’s feet is a Jolteon, who looks very happy and content of being next too Robert. As well as watching the T.V with the boy.

With Jolteon letting out a hum from Robert, reaching over the couch and then moving his hand down to pet the Pokemon on her head. Gently stroking from the head and down too her back, making the female Pokemon to constantly bop and nudge her head against his hand.

Making Pikachu sick at the scene, of why a Pokemon will grow so affection to a human…let alone wanting to be a pet. Despite that thought though, he did wished that his ex-trainer would’ve done the same too him…I mean those pets and rubs on the stomach must feel really nice right?

He quickly shook his head and gently tapped his forehead. ‘Focus Pikachu you have to get out! Remember!?’ he scolded himself, as he then heard Robert’s mom calling out to the boy and Pokemon. Saying dinner is ready, making the boy replied back and getting off the couch.

“Now my chance!” thought Pikachu as he waited for the human boy, and female Jolteon to disappear behind the wall. Chuckling a bit at how hyper active the Jolteon was, as she is literately bouncing and bucking around the boy. Trying in her own way to cheer up the somewhat down casted boy, from his day of school.

Making the Pikachu to roll his eyes a bit, and pressed his way down the stairs. Making sure that he wouldn’t slip or yelp out from slipping on the wooden stairs…as he was making sure that every step he makes, he will use his paws. Too quickly grab onto the rails, in a way of not falling off.

Seeing more and more decorations of the house as he goes down the stairs, seeing picture frames hanging on the walls of the living room. With what looks like a small but yet happy family in the first one, with the mother holding a baby and a little boy, standing next to her…along with that same Jolteon in the frame.

With the next one is having the baby child, grown up a bit and playing outside with other Pokemon joining him. Riding on the back of Jolteon, with a few four legged Pokemon running along with them and such, all sharing bright smiles! Even a Ponyta was trotting along with the boy and Jolteon!

Pikachu eyes were so glued to the picture frames on the walls, he could feel and sense the emotions from just staring at them. Watching how each photo showed both Robert and his brother growing up, and becoming who they are today…with a few picture frames. Showing them in school along with their grades, as Pikachu didn’t understand what C- and A+ meant? But figure it was a human thing…noticing that most if not C- and some C+ were on Roberts papers.

With a few exception of A- grades here and there as compare to his brothers C and A grades. But what was really noteworthy too Pikachu? Is the fact that Danny in these picture frames, seems to have more and more friends showing up? Compare to Robert having what seems to be two female friends in couple of pictures, or two male looking friends.

In which cause Pikachu to snicker a bit, at the looks Robert and the two girls had on their faces. From those two boy’s glaring and pressing each other foreheads together, tugging on what seems to be a Magikarp caught on both their fishing lines.

After getting done musing over the picture, and passing over a couple more pictures. With the last one showing a bright and happy Robert, being hugged and cuddle with a very rare and wild Raichu! As the electric mouse really wanted to get out of here quickly!

He darted his way over towards the sofa and right towards what would be the door, leading outside! “Almost there and thank goodness there is a Pokemon door!” Pikachu thought to himself as he figured there would be one. Since earlier he saw Jolteon hanging out with Robert and such near the couch, although before he could even get through it by leaping towards it.

Pikachu suddenly let out a loud grunt of pain, as he felt something tackling into his left side hard and fast. Causing the little electric mouse to slam right up at the corner of the wall, promptly slamming up against it and then back to the floor.

“Jolteon, jolt!” shouted the evolved form of Eevee. Growling and hissing towards the Pikachu, who got up onto his fours and growls back! Knowing now he was caught and can’t escape anymore…as well being cornered.

“Pikachu!” shouted the electric mouse, as the two electric types started sparking and cackling their electricity at each other. Alerting the mother and son from the kitchen too come stomping on out and towards the commotion, only for them to stop after reaching the threshold of the living room.

“What the…what’s a Pikachu doing here?!” Robert’s mother shouted as she blinked her eyes confusingly towards the two growling Pokemon. Even Robert himself was confuse of how one even gotten inside, but being the little nine year old self he is…as well learning how rare Pikachu are to come by in viridian forest.

He wondered if his mother would catch one? He stared towards the wild Pikachu who is now walking sideways, with Jolteon doing the same. Never leaving eye contact from one another, as the spikes on Jolteon fur prickled up, and her ears folding back low as possible…warning the Pikachu, that he is not welcomed here!

“Mom you think…you could catch it?” He asked his mother, making Jolteon to blink her amber eyes and look quickly towards the boy and then back at Pikachu. As she then notice Pikachu growling got louder, as he doesn’t like the idea…only to then stop when Jolteon?

Just sat down in front of him and smiled, waging her tail excitedly ‘Whoa wait what? First she starts snarling and growling at me, because I was a threat! Now she is just sitting there wagging her tail in excitement, because the boy wants his mom to catch me!’

In which Pikachu then saw Jolteon tilting her head and barked out “Why not? Her son is really good and very nice; as well he loves to play with Pokemon!” Jolteon informed with a big smile, wagging her short tail even more. Causing Pikachu to lower one eye half way and slowly tilting his head to the right.

“Your kidding right? Me, become a trainer’s Pokemon let alone a house pet! NEVER in my life will I ever!” Pikachu started explaining, only to get interrupted by the Jolteon who had an all knowing grin.

“I don’t see why not, you get groomed, you get treated nicely and…” She then licked her paws a bit, and swiped them over her face. Giggling out, “You get food whenever you feel hungry, and not having to battle over a wild Pokemon for it! Also…who knows maybe her kit will choose you as a Starter Pokemon. Instead of the ones Oak offers.” Which was the ace in Jolteons paws, having this nagging feeling? That this Pikachu hate towards humans so much? Is probably because he recently got released by his trainer...

Since Robert is nine years old, and would probably want to start his Pokemon journey next year? Who would to say if Pikachu warms up to the boy, the electric mouse will probably be picked by Robert? Too become his starter Pokemon instead of Charmander, Squirtle and Bulbasaur?

“…House Pokemon gets meals and treated nicely?” Pikachu repeated in his head, while looking down in thought. Over what Jolteon had said, all the while gnawing against his lip a bit…she even then went and said that if Pikachu, were to get caught by the boy’s mother? Robert might choose him over the starter Pokemon. ”Getting meals sounds like a great deal, but becoming his Pokemon starter…yeah right! Not in a million years, will I let someone be MY trainer!”

“Your choice Pikachu, you don’t HAVE to be Robert’s Pokemon starter…but I have no doubt in my mind. He will try and do everything in his power, to wanting to grow and train with you. Or even teach you how to battle and such. But if you do decide and become a house pet know this?” Jolteon said and then got right in his face.

Forcing him down onto his back, causing his entire body to quake and shiver in fear. Of the very door of death staring right down at him, with Jolteon using her electricity to emphasis what she is about to say “If you harm, hurt, upset or even give Robert a horrible time. Know this that I WILL, come after you and show you WHY you shouldn’t mess with a female Jolteon or her owners COMPREDE?!” She growled out, as well making the Pikachu to claw with a deadly grip onto the blue carpeted floor.

Nodding his head up and down very quickly, as well as shiver with fear. When he suddenly felt her licking his cheeks and sitting back down with a smile “Good of course I know you won’t make things easy for him, but please and mind his health okay?” she said and started walking her way over towards the human mother and son.

“His…health what does she mean by that?” Pikachu thought while sitting up and blinking his eyes, at her direction, watching the electric type purring and rubbing all along Robert’s legs. Making the boy to look down and then laughed.

When she hopped up and places both her paws over his shoulders, and gave him couple playful licks. Wagging her tail excitedly “Jolt, Jolteon!” she barked out while getting down and shifting her gaze over to the confuse Pikachu.

In which Robert look up at Pikachu, with both their eyes meeting one another. Pikachu just standing there and stared at the boy, with uncertainty…he doesn’t know how to explain it? Just…looking at the boy is giving this weird feeling. That he can trust Robert…that Robert is no threat to him whatsoever?

It was a strange sensation and it even proves it more. When Jolteon just will not move away from Robert whatsoever, as she constantly purred and rub her body against his legs. Showing great affection and trust in him that a regular Pokemon would not normally show?

“Here Robert…” the mother suddenly spoke up with a smile. Causing Robert to turn his attention at her, and then widen his eyes at what she is holding in her hands! It was a Pokeball…but not just any Pokeball, it was his mother first Pokeball. Special hand crafted of that too almost look like a Jolteon. With the color scheme being completely yellow on top and bottom of the Pokeball, with her Jolteon name completely faded out from age.

Jolteon couldn’t help but hop left and right, as Pikachu can hear her saying “take it, take it!” making him chuckle a bit. Surprise how excited she was getting over just a dumb ball…only to perk his ears straight up when he heard Robert saying.

“Are you sure mom…this is Jolteons?” He asked only to smile a bit, when she rubbed the top of his head. Telling him how she already got a new Pokeball for the hyper active Pokemon, using those exact words causing Jolteon. To step back a bit with one paw raised, and then humph her head upward saying how she is appalled.

Only to then laugh with the two humans, making Pikachu to tilt his head? Wondering what is so funny…all he got out of it is that, the ball Robert is about to use on him. Belonged to Jolteon and his mother…

Pikachu focus then went to Robert, who looked really nervous and somewhat excited and scared at the same time. Which makes sense too Pikachu, his species can be quite dangerous! Especially with their electricity and all that…he wanted to use thundershock on the boy and run out the door. But probably wouldn’t get the chance?

Since Jolteon are as fast as Pikachu’s, but it’s not Jolteon he is worried about. It’s just something about this boy and his aura? Of wanting to be close to him, wanting to get to know him better or just plain out hang out and have fun with him!

‘Who knows Pikachu? Maybe being a house pet will be better than a Trainers Pokemon…after all free food!’ He thought and looked up at the nine year old boy. Who gulped and knelt down in front of Pikachu, giving the electric mouse a better view of his emerald eyes and that smile of his.

“What…do you say Pikachu? Will you like to be my Pokemon?” He asked with a shaky voice. Making the electric mouse blink his eyes in shock, of why the boy would even bother asking him to be his? Was…was the boy giving him a choice!?

‘What…why is he giving me a choice to become his Pokemon or not?’ Pikachu wandered as well lowering one eye halfway at the boy. He knew Jolteon wouldn’t probably attack him, if he were given a choice now. Which means Pikachu can run away and never look back at this house again!

Or he allows Robert to catch him and raise him as a house pet, and…probably like Jolteon said. Raise him and train him to being a Trainer’s Pokemon. Well house pet seems like a great deal, and if Robert impresses Pikachu enough over the course of living with him? He then might decide to become his starter Pokemon.

“Pika…pikachu, chu!” he chanted out while nodding his head. Only to then glare and points at Robert, letting him know it won’t be easy to win him over. In which the yellow mouse couldn’t help but flushed a bit, and smirked when Robert confident grin showed.

“Don’t worry Pikachu I wouldn’t expect you, to make things easy and…thanks!” Robert exclaimed as he gotten up and enlarged the yellow Pokeball and took couple steps backwards, throwing the ball at Pikachu. With it soaring through the air and landing directly onto his forehead, as the ball then absorb the Pikachu in a red light, by opening and then closing shut.

It then began the three shaking sequence, as it shook once…then twice…’And I to you Robert…let me see just how determine you really are!’ Thought Pikachu, as he closed his eyes and heard the clicking of the Pokeball. Indicating that Robert Pokeball had succeeded in capturing the Pokemon, and making him his own.

‘Who knows Pikachu…your life might get more interesting and exciting from here on out!’ and with that, as well being Robert’s first every capture and Pokemon. The two soon to be partners, have finally met each other and begin living with one another!

What adventures awaits them in their futures; as well will Robert be able to convince Pikachu, of becoming a Trainer’s Pokemon?

@Fading Tree
I would give this sentence another read. I think you tried to combine two phrases here, and it sounds awkward. I would get rid of "on", to make the sentence flow a bit better.

One thing I noticed is that you're telling, not showing. Despite the second person viewpoint, I don't feel very immersed in the scene. The only thing I know is that there's a thunderstorm going on, and that the champion was murdered. Right now, you're telling us this information. Since I work best with examples, here's what I mean:
You're telling us that the champion has been defeated. Don't tell us, show us. This is arguably the hardest thing about writing, but I'll try my best to give an introduction.

Try asking the six basic question, who, what, when, where, why, and how? Taking the time to answer these six question for each scene can really help getting a picture of what's happening in your mind. And when there's a picture in your mind, it can be transferred into words. Who murdered the pokemon? What were they doing in order for the pokemon to be murdered? When did this take place? Where are they? Why is everyone getting murdered around here? How are they being killed off? Questions like these really help. I'm not the best at showing, but I'll try to provide an example of what I'm talking about.

So, something along the lines of that. It's your job as the writer to immerse your reader into the scene. It's nearly impossible to do that when you're telling, so you have to show.

Hopefully I helped a little bit. I would also recommend letting your writing sit for at least a day, and then reading through it again. It will help a lot with picking up simple errors, and there were a couple more that I didn't point out. Overall, this isn't that bad. There's a lot to be improved on, but the story is there. I'm curious on why you chose second person for this though. It's a tricky viewpoint that can be very effective if used correctly, but can otherwise ruin a story. Anyway, good luck with future writing endeavors and I hope I helped!

@Astinus
I'm sorry, but it looks pretty good to me. I don't really have much feedback. D:

Snippet Revised

Spoiler:

You wake up to the sound of thunder. You are soaking wet from the rain crashing against your flesh. Your body is shivering. A flash of light illuminates the grey cloudy sky fallowed by a cra-boom! Nature's drum startled you out of your sleeping bag. "Oh Gward!" You see two pokemon fighting from a distance. You hurry onto your bike, and cycle to the epicentre of the battle. You watch as the CHAMPION battle against a masked person. You witness the masked persons Dragonite deliver a final Thunder the CHAMPIONs Scizor. The CHAMPION starts to grieve. "YOU BASTARD! YOU KILLED THEM!" The ground was covered in blood from the defeated. The CHAMPION crunched their fist together, and ran towards the owner of the malicious Dragonite. "Draco Meteor" The owner of the Dragonite spoke calmly. The Dragonite charged towards the CHAMPION and unleashed fiery rocks from its mouth crushing the CHAMPIONs body. The owner of the Dragonite wore a mask and had an entourage of two others with him/her. They spot you on the road and send out three pokemon to battled you: Jolteon, Empoleon, and Clefable. You send out your Altaria, and Servine. "Dragon Pulse and Leech Seed!" you shout out. The clefable waved its finger, and took both the attacks. The Jolteon charged itself up, and used thunder against your Marie (Altarie) she faints. Your servine looks away seeing her faint. While looking away Empoleon launched a super effective Ice Beam, freezing the snake. The Empoleon moved swiftly in the rain. It took advantage of its fallen foes, and used cut severing the necks of your pokemon from their bodies. You try to cycle away in anguish and tears. "Gawd help. Please!" You feel like your next. You see your life flash before your eyes and all fades to black.

I wrote the story in 2nd person because I was going for the view point of a player, and I didn't want to include any genders. I'm getting into writing. I'm told to write about what you like. I like simple stories with some revenge, forgiveness, romance, and action,

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